I'll Be There
by macattack102712
Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.
1. AUTHOR'S NOTE- JULY 2019 RETURN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

July 2019:

After the NCISLA episode aired, I had to take a step back to process my feelings. I'm still utterly crushed. Gutted.

But, after considerable, heartfelt debate, I decided to finish what I started: my stories. They are the heart of what I do and enjoy, and to give them up felt like I was turning my back on what I love the most. And I couldn't continue to do that.

I'll be honest: I'm very disappointed with Catherine Bell in how she promoted the "return" of Harm and Mac. She continuously posted praise for the storylines on social media, saying how much she loved what the two had been up to for the past 14 years. I was ECSTATIC. I literally SCREAMED when I heard BOTH were coming back. You see, I'd been a JAG fan since I was a teenager in the late 90's, early 00's, and that show took me thru A LOT of hard times. I couldn't WAIT to see my OTP once more.

I screamed when Catherine walked onto the scene. My heart was in my throat.

And then…..I hear her devastating revelation: "We haven't seen each other in nine years".

My heart dropped into my stomach. My husband said all the color leached from my face. I immediately turned the tv off and went to bed. The next day, I felt like I honest-to-god had the flu. I was just numb. I couldn't believe it.

I wanted to ask Catherine: "How can you love the fact they are divorced and have been estranged for NINE YEARS? How can you love the fact that, considering the half-assed ending we got with JAG, you KNEW the NCISLA script erased what _little _happiness we were given? Just…HOW?"

I don't think there is enough time in the two upcoming episodes to fix the shit that was done, or leave us with anything beyond a pathetic agreement between them to give their relationship "another chance". Or map out some elaborate scheme where yes, they've been apart these past nine years, but it was all for some covert operation.

Hopefully it will turn out better than I predict, but I hold ZERO hope. So, I won't be watching.

I also had to take a step back when, after courteously voicing my disappointment and hurt, I, as well as others, were told by some to, "calm the fuck down". We were basically told we weren't entitled to our feelings, nor were we allowed to voice our disappointment, especially to Ms. Bell. Do you have ANY idea how that makes you feel!? For someone to tell YOU how THEY think YOU should feel?

So, I'd like to nail a point home: When someone is a public figure on social media, that person should expect to receive both constructive criticism and praise. It comes with the territory. And it's condescending to be told (by someone with ZERO connections to the show, the actors, or the network, no less) that you're "overreacting" and not entitled to your opinion. You see, that's the great thing about living in the United States. I'm free to voice my opinion in a courteous manner, even when it's not a favorable one.

At any rate, I returned to my works not just because I felt obligated to do so, but because I owed it to my readers, and my beta reader, to take them to the finish line. My readers have been reading since day one. My beta reader has been proofing since day one. She's encouraged me, motivated me, and has proofed my work with nothing expected in return. She enjoyed doing that. It brought her joy. And I took it away.

That was wrong of me. I owed it to her to give her back that joy.

Which leads me to another point that needs to be nailed home: There are readers out there who think a great writer doesn't need to use, or doesn't use, an editor/beta reader. That is _absolutely asinine_. Stephen King, Clive Cussler, Debbie Macomber, Norah Roberts, JK Rowling….THEY ALL use editors. And for someone to think they don't, well, that makes that person a damn fool. ANY writer worth a damn, whether they are professional or just plain fanfic writers, will want to have an editor/beta.

I am not a professional writer. Never have been. Never will be. Don't want to be. I simply do this as a hobby in my time between a full-time military job, flight training, and volunteer work. I'm not going to pay big money to use an agency editor because I do not own the characters and cannot sell my stories for profit. Suffice it to say, I enjoy what I do….and I'll be dammed if I'll let anyone, especially those who don't even have the guts to _write themselves_, or those who want to tell me how I should feel about the episode, ruin it for me, or others.

For me, it's best if I pretend that NCISLA episode never happened. For me, Harm and Mac are happily married, without either of them having to sacrifice their career for their marriage. For me, that's where they'll stay.

I'm back, fellow readers. And I'm here to stay.

V/R,

Meghan, aka "Macattack102712"


	2. Chapter 1

Title: "I'll Be There"

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone 2017-2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful characters of JAG do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I've done some editing and readjustments of chapters for this story since I began rewriting it in 2017. Some chapters were too long and I split them up. Other chapters are still longer than the rest, but I could not find a suitable break point, so they were left alone.

I always wanted to write a story about Mac and her Uncle Matt. He was, after all, the very reason she sobered up, joined the Corps, and made something of her life. I feel the writers really missed an opportunity to expound on the character of Colonel O'Hara. "We The People" was the episode where Harm and Mac first met. It was obvious both were smitten from the moment they shook hands in the Rose Garden. And it was clear she had his undying devotion when he put his career on the line for Colonel O'Hara.

Now, just to clarify a few points:

1) I'm not hardcore with technicalities on cases, etc, so if the Patrick Henry incident seems too illogical, just go with it. The real focus is on Matt's illness and how Mac is dealing with it.

2) Don't know if prisons allow terminal patients to live with family, but let's assume they do.

3) Throughout the story, you'll notice repeated phrases or gestures concerning the characters. This was done intentionally to highlight underlying connections that exist.

4) And last, but certainly not least: The title of this series is inspired by a song of the same name. It was written in the 80's by The Escape Club as a tribute to a close friend who committed suicide. It is by far the most beautiful "in memorial" songs I've ever heard.

**Timeframe: This story takes place during S7. Neither Mic nor Renee exist for a variety of purposes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1600

JAG Headq

Falls Church, VA

Mac's Office

Mac's pen flew across the enormous stack of paperwork on her desk, the black ink seeping into the pristine whiteness. It was late in the afternoon; the faster she could get thru with closing the files, the faster she could call it a day. She'd been snowed under for several weeks.

She was in the midst of applying her elegant signature to another document when Petty Officer Jason Tiner, her Commanding Officer's yeoman, paged her over the phone's intercom.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the Admiral has requested to see you, immediately."

Mac set the pen aside and gathered the papers into a neat stack. "Thank you Tiner. I'm on my way".

"Aye aye, ma'am" he replied. The connection ended, and Mac smiled. Tiner was a fine yeoman, having recently been accepted into her alma mater law school. Over the past few months, she'd been mentoring him for the application exam, and had written a letter of recommendation to the school. There was no doubt, that following a few years of experience, he would be one of JAG's finest lawyers. It was a wonderful feeling to see those she cared for become successful in their own endeavors.

She vacated her office and strode out into the bullpen. As usual, there was the constant buzz of activity as people scurried around, going about their assigned duties. Desk phones took turns ringing, while fax machines screamed and printers whirred. It was, undoubtedly, quite noisy, but Mac took a strange type of comfort in all of the chaos. It brought her a sense of peace and warmth. JAG was more than a place of employment; it was home. Something she'd been searching for so long. She passed by the office of her partner, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. It was empty: lights off, with blinds drawn half-shut.

_'Looks like someone secured early for the day'. _

A pang of good-nature envy pricked her. She was tired and ready to close up for the day. While she waited for permission to enter his office, it occurred to her that it was rather odd he would request to see her at such a late hour. It was, after all, nearly time to go home. She stifled a yawn, hoping the Admiral wouldn't keep her long.

A gruff voice granting her permission echoed from her CO's office. She entered and immediately came to attention.

Chegwidden waved away her formality without bothering to look up. "At ease, Colonel". He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk, handing her a briefing form. "Take a seat".

Mac quietly complied, noting, with an element of dread, the furrowing of AJ's brow. She'd worked under him long enough to realize it was a tell-tale sign of irritation. It was quiet in the large office, with only the occasional car horn from passing traffic, and the ticking of the clock, to disrupt the uncomfortable silence.

He thumbed thru a few more pages in a manila folder before vacating his seat and coming around the front of the desk. He handed the folder to Mac. "Not sure if Rabb's had a chance to inform you, but there's been an incident aboard the USS Patrick Henry involving a hard landing of an F-14. Thankfully, no fatalities, but the SecNav is none too happy. As standard protocol, the pilot, Commander Harrison West, was grounded immediately. The SECNAV wants Rabb to handle the investigation".

Mac scanned the preliminary incident report. "Sir, with all due respect, why is the SecNav upset over this particular incident? It's not the first time a pilot has almost lost one in the drink".

A wry smile tugged at AJ's mouth. The comment undoubtedly referenced one infamous pilot-turned-lawyer and his knack for ditching multi-million-dollar aircraft. "Well, Colonel, it wouldn't be such a big deal, except West just so happens to be the SecNav's nephew". He unceremoniously dropped his eyeglasses on the desk. He rubbed his forehead. There was definitely a headache lurking at the edges of his temples.

"Oh shi-…I mean, boy…." Mac stumbled, barely catching her slip of profanity. The effort made AJ chuckle, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"My sentiments exactly, Colonel".

For the first time since their partnership began, Mac did not envy Harm for the responsibility of handling an incredibly high-profile case. Harm was the best of the best, especially when it concerned airman investigations. She agreed with the Admiral. "No wonder he wanted Rabb".

AJ continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am sending Commander Turner as well. They are scheduled to leave from port tonight. I want this cleared up ASAP so I can get one very pissed SecNav off my six. And get my lawyers back". He reached over to punch the intercom button. "Tiner!"

"Sir?"

"Get me the departure time of Rabb and Turner. They are to contact me the moment they step foot on that carrier. God knows I will have to follow this case like a Russian heat-seeking missile on a Tomcat".

"Yes, sir. On it".

Instinctively, Mac knew her caseload was about to explode, something she was not looking forward to. She was already buried up to her eyeballs. But it couldn't be helped. And, as the Admiral's Chief-of-Staff, picking up deadweight cases unfortunately fell under the job description tab of, 'Other Duties as Assigned'. She returned the folder to AJ.

AJ tossed it behind him. "As expected, Turner and Rabb's caseloads must be reassigned. I've split Turner's between Singer and Roberts, but Rabb's load is still on him. How full is your plate, Colonel?" he asked, gathering up Harm's cases.

"Well, the Leckherd case is almost closed. We reached an agreement out of court with a dishonorable discharge and $4,000 in restitution. As far as the Richey investigation goes, I'm writing up the interviews I conducted this week. And I had closing arguments on the Dodd trial yesterday. We expect a verdict by the end of the week, sir". Mac took the stack of folders from AJ. Based on the weight, there were several cases that would need her immediate attention. She balanced them on her knee. "I'll handle Rabb's, sir."

"Are you sure? I know you wouldn't do a job half-assed, but this is quite a bit, even for a seasoned lawyer". He studied her intently.

Mac squared herself, determination flashing in her eyes. This was the first real test of her abilities to handle a high caseload since her Admiral's Mast, and she was determined not to disappoint. "I'm sure, sir. When you're a man down, you man up".

AJ considered her response for a moment before giving a nod of acceptance. "Very well. If you encounter any issues or trouble along the way, you are to let me know immediately, is that understood?" His tone left no room for argument.

Mac rose to her feet, tucking the files against her ribcage. "Yes sir. Understood sir".

"Dismissed".

He returned his attention back to the briefing on his desk as Mac came to attention and exited.

Both inwardly sighed.

It was going to be a long week.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1945

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

It was well past 1900 when Mac finally left the office, her return home delayed by the meeting with the Admiral, and having to go by the grocery store for a few essentials, mainly coffee. For her, the substance was liquid gold, and she was going to need a lot of it.

_'Riiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiing!_'

Mac's phone buzzed incessantly in her coat pocket, but her hands were full with grocery bags, her cover, briefcase, and keys.

_'Riiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiing!_'

"Hold on, hold on! Lemme get in the door!" she muttered in frustration as she pushed open her apartment door. Yanking the keys from the lock, she dropped the grocery sacks on the floor and fished for the phone buried in her coat pocket.

_'Riiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiing!_'

"Hello?" she answered breathlessly, slamming the door shut with her heel. She immediately toed off her standard-issued pumps, grateful to be out of the somewhat uncomfortable footwear.

An unfamiliar voice came thru the other end. "Is this Colonel Mackenzie?"

Mac tossed her keys in the basket on the entry table before shrugging out of her coat. "Who's calling, please?"

"I'm Chaplain Jake Gaines from Leavenworth Prison. I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour, but it's important that I speak with you. My call is in regards to your uncle, Matthew O'Hara".

A sense of unease suddenly quenched around Mac's heart as she hung up her overcoat in the small closet opposite the front door. The hesitant tone of his voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Swallowing the nervous lump that had suddenly risen in her throat, she confirmed her identity. "This is Colonel Mackenzie. What can I do for you and my uncle?"

"Colonel, it's not my preference to have discussions of this nature over the phone, but as you live several hours away, I had no choice but to call you as soon as possible," Gaines replied.

Her stomach tightened. "Understood, Chaplain. Go on, please".

"Last month, your uncle presented to the clinic with flu-like symptoms. We've got several strains running rampant thru the facility, so we treated him and gave him a follow up appointment. When he didn't improve, we brought him back for a series of scans and tests". Gaines paused, knowing he was about to deliver a devastating blow. "Your uncle…. has an extremely aggressive form of stomach cancer. The tumor is inoperable…and treatment at this stage would be ineffective". Gaines hesitated, aware that with every word spoken, he was driving a knife further in her. "I'm afraid…. he may have a few months left, maybe 3. I'm so sorry, Colonel. So very sorry".

Mac was sure her heart had stopped beating the moment that lecherous word filtered across the line.

_Cancer?_

It couldn't be!

Matthew hadn't mentioned a word about being sick in the letter she received last week. Stunned, she was quiet for several moments. Chaplain Gaines had to be mistaken. There was simply no other explanation!

"Excuse me, sir, and no offense meant, but…. are you sure you have the _right_ Matthew O'Hara? I just visited him three months ago and he was fine".

On the other end of the line, Gaines winced. "Yes, Colonel, I'm…. I'm afraid I am. This type of cancer is considered a silent killer because it often does not manifest symptoms until it's spread". He hated this part of the job, but because he served as the prison's chaplain, it was his responsibility to have to call inmate's families and deliver unwanted news. There were some families that did not care, which was certainly understandable in many cases, but Matthew was different. Over the course of his incarceration, Gaines had come to know him well. He'd never encountered a more kind, caring, and intelligent individual. While Matthew had made some unwise choices during his military career, his heart had nevertheless been in the right place. And it was obvious, in the way he spoke of his niece, that he loved her very much. He beamed with pride whenever he would talk of her, sharing her pictures and accomplishments with him. Gains felt that, in a way, he knew her, which made this phone call all the more difficult. "God only knows how I wish I were wrong".

Mac choked back what sounded like a sob, but her voice was steady. The next words felt forced. Hollow. "When can I come see him? I'm not allowed another visit for at least two more months."

"Leavenworth grants terminally ill inmates in good standing and with a life expectancy of 6 months or less to return home with family. I need you out here as soon as possible so we can discuss these arrangements. We'll work out what's best for the both of you". Gaines added.

"I will be there on the first flight available," Mac confirmed. "I'd like to speak with him, so he knows I'm coming".

"He's asleep at the moment. We had to administer pain medication so that he could get some rest," he replied. "Colonel, I am sorry. I do wish I had better news".

"It's understandable, Chaplain". It was all Mac could do to keep the tears away long enough to get through the phone call. "I will call you when I land in Kansas. Thank you, sir. Goodnight".

"I will be anticipating your call, then. Goodnight Colonel".

Mac hit the 'end' button on her phone and dropped it on the table, a sense of numbness and disbelief washing over her. Her whole body was shaking.

She was going to lose her uncle, the one person who meant the most to her.

_'Besides Harm_'.

The tears edged out as the realization of what life would be like without him rushed to the surface. If there was a bright light in her life, it was him. She looked so forward to each visit, finding it almost impossible to leave at the end of the two-day authorization. During the time between visits, letters were sent back and forth, and his always brought a smile to her face. Aside from her colleagues at JAG, he was the only person who treated her like she was worth something.

A sudden realization smacked her in the chest.

Work!

What was she going to do? It was already a skeleton crew at headquarters, and the Admiral couldn't afford to be down another lawyer.

She was stuck between a rock and a hard place: her obligations to the Admiral, and Matthew. But there was no one else, and come hell or high water, she'd be there for him, the consequences be dammed. Blindly, she grabbed her keys and left her apartment to make the fifteen-minute drive to the Admiral's home. This was certainly not a conversation she wanted to have over the phone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1945

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Harm clicked the end button on his phone as his repeated attempts to reach Mac were unsuccessful. His call went straight to voicemail. He didn't feel the need to leave a third message. The unfolding of the day's events didn't warrant an opportunity to see her. His afternoon was spent pouring over the preliminary report on the Patrick Henry incident, and they were scheduled to fly out at 2200. The Admiral had informed them their caseloads were divided up among their colleagues. Harm felt unnecessary guilt; Mac was already carrying a difficult load, and it was in her nature to not ask for help when she really needed it.

'I hope she doesn't wear herself out,' he thought to himself as he rooted through the fridge for something to eat. His stomach was rumbling, and because of the late hour, the local eateries had long since closed. He removed a saran-wrapped plate containing a slice of meat covered pizza, a forgotten remnant from their late-night trial review the previous week. Pulling a face, he stepped on the lever at the foot of the garbage can and deposited the rancid food. A grin tugged at his face. Only _she_ would eat food with a quart of grease on it. "That's my Marine," he chuckled aloud.

'_Wait a minute, my Marine? Where did that come from_?'

"Jeez…..Rabb, this F-14 crash's got you wired. Hell, you're talking to yourself. One-way ticket to the looney bin, for sure!" He chalked it up to a long day, and the fact he was just tired.

Yeah, that was it.

He turned his attention to the freezer, his eyes falling on a a tv dinner that thankfully, had not passed its expiration date. He shrugged in resignation. It was obvious it was his only option for a late-night meal. He ventured into the living room to channel surf, leaving the entrée to microwave. He settled against the couch, trying to get comfortable, yet…. there was something missing. Frustrated, Harm reached behind him to rearrange the cushions but it didn't help. Something just didn't feel right.

He didn't realize the one thing missing, the one that would make it right, was Mac..

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2015

Somewhere on the highway

McLean, VA

As her eyes followed the headlight beams bouncing on the darkened pavement, memories of her and Uncle Matt nearly swallowed her attention: memories of him pushing her as a little girl on the tire swing in his front yard….working together on a dinosaur fossil….sharing an root-beer float at Borris' Drug Store…hiking the trails at Red Rock Mesa. She always felt so safe, loved, and _wanted _in his presence. Her parents had never wanted a child, and made sure to remind her of this fact, almost daily. But Uncle Matt made sure she knew she was the center of his world; she had hung all the stars in the sky.

He was her lifeline when all other ropes had been frayed or cut, the sole reason she enlisted in the Marine Corps. He salvaged her from her impending demise, and that in itself was a debt of gratitude she could never repay.

Following his incarceration, Mac had visited as often as allowed. The Admiral was more than generous, as he gave, at no additional expense to her, two extra days off during Christmas and Thanksgiving. It was a gesture Mac deeply appreciated. She cherished every moment she had with her uncle.

A lone tear ran down her cheek when she realized the most important man in her life was being taken away from her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END OF CHAPTER ONE::


	3. Chapter 2

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Two

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed August 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful characters of JAG do not belong to me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2030

Admiral Chegwidden's House

MacLean, VA.

Mac pulled her car into the Admiral's driveway, parking it behind his black Escalade. She sat quietly, contemplating what to say.

_'The drive over here should have given you enough time to figure it out, Mackenzie'_ she lectured herself.

She was at a total loss as to who would be able to pick up the slack in her absence. Mac dreaded the impending disappointment that would come to his eyes upon telling him. She was letting him down during a time she was needed the most. And she hated it. After her marriage to Chris, her subsequent trial for his murder (thankfully exonerated due to a solid argument of self-defense by Harm), and the affair with her former C.O. had come to light, Mac felt she struggled to restore the Admiral's faith and trust. Although she had "paid her dues" at her Admiral's Mast, she wasn't quite sure where she stood in his eyes. She was worried his opinion had not improved much, and it was an erroneous assumption that weighed heavily on her heart. Despite being appointed to his Chief of Staff position, she felt…. inadequate. Unworthy.

She also had to give herself a moment to put on the mask of invincibility she'd carefully constructed over the years. Her mask was analogous to the buildings constructed during the infamous 'Gilded Age' of America. They stood tall and mighty on the outside, but in reality, they were nothing more than false fronts, rotting from the inside from years of neglect and abuse. And, in similar fashion, every bit of who Sarah Mackenzie appeared to be was nothing more than a front. While she looked strong and confident on the outside, she was falling apart on the inside, crumbling from the tumultuous forces of her life. Her façade was an attempt to prevent those near her from seeing just weak…how pathetic, she really was. Mac had learned many hard lessons growing up, but if there was one particular lesson worth its salt, it was that weakness was a liability. The less she appeared vulnerable, the safer she was. Even wild animals knew to avoid showing frailty or weakness, if they wanted to avoid being another's prey.

_'If people only knew how I feel sometimes'. _

She shut off the engine, pocketing the keys while opening the door of her Corvette. The wind blew with such ferocity that it nearly jerked it out of her grip. Stepping out of the cherry red sports car, she re-cinched the belt on her coat as the bitter November wind valiantly tried to match the chill that settled in her heart. Despite the freezing temperature, Mac was slow in her walk down the stone pathway to the Admiral's home. She wanted to delay the disappointment. The wind picked up, causing the leaves to skitter around her feet and the trees to drop their acorns in response to the uncontrolled swaying of their branches. A full moon sat high in the pitch-black sky, occasionally blocked by fast-moving cloud coverage. Several raindrops spattered over her arm.

A storm was definitely on the horizon.

_'How ironic'_.

She traversed the short distance from the porch stairs to the door, taking several deep breaths to calm her jittery nerves. With a slight tremble in her hand, she pressed the doorbell, the metal button cold against her fingertip. The chimes rang softly throughout the house, announcing her unplanned visit.

_'One…two…three…..four'_.

She counted the seconds with no response. The lights were on, that much was obvious, but she detected no movement. Although his SUV was in the driveway, it gave no confirmation that he was, indeed, home. For a moment, Mac feared that he wasn't. She contemplated pressing the doorbell again.

_'Five….six….seven…._'.

Her anxiety ticked up a notch; she just wanted to get this conversation over with so that she could be on her way. She nervously chewed her lip, readying herself to press the bell once more.

"_Eight…nine….ten…"._

Seconds later, footsteps approached the front door, the blinds pushed back slightly by the viewer to gain visual approval. Then, a lock was turned. Panic suddenly wrapped around Mac's heart at the sound. She felt like running as fast as her legs would carry her. But before she could act on her impulse, the door opened, revealing a very surprised AJ, dressed in civvies.

Mac's slender form was enveloped in the bright light spilling across the threshold from the living room. The phrase, "caught like a deer in headlights" was no more applicable than in that very moment. She fought the urge to retreat into the shadows, instead choosing to fix her gaze at the porch floor beneath her.

"Colonel!" AJ exclaimed, "What are you doing here at this hour? Is everything okay?". He noticed the way she held herself stiffly, almost cautiously. Her body language screamed uncertainty, along with something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. It immediately had him concerned. Stepping aside, AJ motioned to the living room with a sweep of his hand. "Come inside, it's damn cold out here!"

Mac took another deep breath, mustering up the courage to raise her head to meet his eyes, if only briefly. It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed by AJ, serving to confirm his suspicion that something was most definitely wrong. The hesitancy in her voice was unmistakable. "Um…I'll….um…only be a minute, sir".

"Don't make me repeat myself, Colonel," AJ attempted a humorous stance, smiling to take the sting out of his words. Mac did not smile but instead nodded quickly, stepping across the threshold just far enough so he could shut the door. The wind picked up, the blinds on the door swaying sideways with the effort it took him to close it. Warmth and aromas of Italian food instantly assaulted her olfactory senses. Under different circumstances, she would have most certainly welcomed this as avid lover of heavy carbs and flavorful sauces. But not tonight. Her stomach was already in knots, the smell doing nothing to help squash the lurking queasiness shifting to and fro. She swallowed hard. She would have to make this quick before she either lost her nerve or her lunch, whichever happened first. Aware of the Admiral's scrutiny upon her, she looked around nervously, willing herself to gather her wits and words.

"Have a seat. Can I get you anything? I've just cooked some pasta puttanesca; there's plenty to share," he offered, walking over to adjust the thermostat on the wall. The temperature had dropped considerably since he had returned home earlier that evening.

Mac shifted her weight, clearing her throat to keep the bile down at the mention of food. "Um, no thank you sir, this won't take long…". This was absolute torture. _Scratch that_. It was beyond torture.

_'Just get it over with, Mackenzie'_.

Warning bells began to blare in the back of AJ's mind. Whatever was bothering his junior officer, it was not good. At all. The struggle was evident in her demeanor, even as she fought to keep control of her emotions.

_'Don't push AJ, give her time. Let her take control_'.

He folded his arms across his chest in his signature stance. "Well, in that case, what can I do for you?"

"I got a call this evening from the chaplain at Leavenworth, sir. It was about Colonel O'Hara….um…my uncle," Mac breathed, struggling to keep the tremor out of her voice. She could not afford to let her C.O. see her vulnerability. She had to keep it together for a few more minutes. She just had to.

_'Five more minutes, Mackenzie'._

AJ merely nodded for her to continue, his intense gaze never leaving her face. Now that she was standing under the soft glow of the recessed lighting, he could get a better look at her face. Her eyes were red, cheeks pale; telltale signs that she had been crying. His frowned deepened.

"He has been sick for the last few weeks. They thought initially he had, um, picked up the flu, but he didn't get any better". It was too uncomfortable to look at him, so she kept her gaze fixated on the hardwood floor beneath her.

Icy tendrils of comprehension begin to creep into AJ's mind like kudzu vines on a telephone pole.

_Shit. _

He swallowed hard.

"He had lab work done, and um…the results came back positive. He….he has stomach cancer. It is very aggressive, sir. It is inoperable and incurable. They…. well, his physician says he has about three months left, if he's lucky". The words left her mouth in a strangled whisper. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. She couldn't believe she was saying the words. It made it real. Tangible. Inevitable.

The news seared AJ's gut like a hot knife, slicing him wide open from navel to sternum. He was utterly stunned. Speechless. Of all the things life had thrown at his Chief-Of-Staff, this was, without a doubt, the absolute worst.

Mac interpreted his silence as an expectation to explain why she was there.

"The chaplain has requested I come as soon as possible so we can start on paperwork concerning his living arrangements. The state of Kansas allows terminally ill inmates with good behavior records to live out their remaining days at home," Mac explained. "The plan is for him to live with me until….well….that time….comes".

The last part came out in a stammered rush. She looked everywhere but at AJ. She knew, without further explanation from her, he would put two-and-two together to realize she would not be present to handle the extra cases. '

_Here it comes, Mackenzie'._

"Oh Mac," AJ replied, uncharacteristically using her nickname. Now was not the time for military decorum. "I'm so sorry. Forget about your caseload. You just get out there to Leavenworth".

He had an idea of how much Colonel O'Hara meant to her. Through various conversations over the years, he had been privy to snippets of stories regarding Mac's relationship with her uncle. He knew that Matthew was the only one who ever really cared about her. He also knew Matthew was the very reason Mac had joined the Corps in the first place. Tossing military decorum to the wind, AJ gently touched her shoulder. "What can I do for you, Mac? I don't care what it is, you name it and consider it done".

Mac's head shot up from where she had been counting the worm holes ingrained in the hardwood floor. Shock registered all over her face. "You're not…angry with me because I can't handle the cases after I told you I would?" Incredulousness was evident in her voice. He had every right to be angry. She had simply misheard, that was all.

It dawned on AJ that she was anxious, not just because of the news regarding her uncle, but because of his potential reaction at her requesting personal leave.

_'How in the world could I be angry with her_? _She's just learned that the most important person in her life is dying, and she's worried I'll be angry with her_?'

'Well AJ, you're not exactly known for your even-temper,' his conscience pointed out.

It pained him to know she felt his initial reaction would be anger. An unfamiliar tenderness entered his voice. One she'd never heard before. "Mac, I…I could _never_ be angry with you in a situation like this. I get upset when you're not forthcoming, or when you don't ask for help when you need it".

Mac was floored with his heart-felt response. Never, in a million years, did she expect _this_. If anything, she had steeled herself for a dressing down.

Or worse, his infamous, 'Fine. Consider it done' response.

The latter was undoubtedly the worst for it seeped condemnation and disappointment. For the first time since she'd arrived, Mac held his gaze. "Admiral, do you understand? I told you I would handle his cases, and now, now I can't. You'll be short-staffed sir; I can't do that to you, it's…it's not right!" It was vital he understand the ramifications her absence would bring. "Lieutenant Singer and Lieutenant Roberts are already snowed under, and Singer was complaining today told me today how much she hated having to take on other people's work. You don't have anyone else!"

AJ chucked slightly. "I can assure you Mac, Singer will handle these cases or she will find herself climbing a coconut tree for her next meal because I will have kicked her six all the way to Borneo!" He was awarded with a small smile from Mac and it warmed his heart.

Mac felt her anxiety dissipate at the realization of the compassion AJ was bestowing. He was truly one in a million. "Thank you, sir. I want him to come home with me, so he doesn't have to…well…live out his time in some cold cell. I'm all he has".

'_And he's all I have'. _

AJ's heart constricted. "You're one of the finest officers I have, Mac. I want to help any way I can. I will pull Admiral's privileges, if needed".

Mac could only nod, not trusting herself to speak. The tight reserve she had on her emotions was dangerously thin; she needed to keep it place a little bit longer. It would not do well for her CO to see her cry. "I um…need to get home so I can get my things together and book a flight. They want me there as soon as possible". She made her way to the door, listening to the wind howling eerily as it whipped around the porch eaves.

"Which airline do you want?"

Confused, Mac turned for clarification, her hand resting on the doorknob. "I'm sorry, come again?"

AJ repeated the question. "Which airline would you prefer to fly?"

It was lost on Mac as to why he would be asking such a question, but nonetheless, she answered. "Delta is my first choice, but I will take whatever I can get. I just want to get to him as quickly as possible….". Booking an airline ticket at the last minute was something Mac did not look forward to; experience had shown it could be one expensive hassle.

AJ nodded as he followed her to the door. "Okay, Delta it is. Early morning flight, correct?"

Mac confirmed his assumptions. "Yes sir, I'm hoping there's one available. I haven't even looked. As soon as I got…. the call, I immediately drove here." She looked back down at her feet. She was on the verge of tears.

"Go home and pack. I'll get your flight arranged," AJ offered. He couldn't change the situation for her, but whatever he could do to make things a little easier, he would move heaven and earth to get it done.

Mac hesitated. She was not used to accepting help, but in all honesty, she didn't know if she had the mental stamina to deal with the hassle of booking a flight, at least not tonight. "That…that would be a tremendous help. Thank you, sir, so much".

Satisfied with her response, AJ gave one final order. "Call me when you get there, Mac. I want to know that you made it okay".

"Yes sir, will do," Mac agreed, moving to open the door. But before she did, she paused, turned around, and, in a rare show of emotion, gave her C.O. a quick, but fierce hug. "Thank you, for everything" she whispered thickly, exiting the house in a hurry before the dam burst on her emotions.

AJ barely had time to register her actions before she had slipped out the door. He shuddered against the cold, seeing the strength of the wind in the way that it whipped her hair and coat every which way as she made her way to her car. "Be careful!" he called after her, praying for the woman he considered so much like a daughter. Mac waved in acknowledgement as she settled into the driver's seat, any verbal response lost on the wind. AJ stayed at the door until he could not see her taillights in the dark, hoping she would have the strength to get thru this.

One thing was for sure, though: Mac was the strongest woman he had ever met.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2100 Zulu

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

After having tried to reach Mac all evening, Harm threw in the towel and decided to drive to her apartment. It was late, he knew, but he couldn't help it. For some inexplicable reason, he _just had to see her._ The apartment parking lot was littered with several street lights burned out, making it difficult to locate her Corvette. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor and made his way down the long corridor to her apartment. He pounded impatiently on the door, but the music creeping from under the door of the neighboring apartment was the only answer to his rather incessant knocking.

'_Where could she be at this hour?'_

It wasn't normally like her to stay out so late. Despite her insomnia, Harm knew her well enough to know she was a homebody, only venturing out late if it was a dire necessity. Hesitating briefly, he reached into his pocket and fished out his keys, thumbing thru various fobs until he found the spare key to her apartment. He smiled as the cool metal rested lightly in his palm. It was bejeweled and painted in camo-green. It was so typical, yet not so typical of Mac. It was one of his most prized possessions, right alongside his father's aviator wings and the cassette tapes containing his narrated wartime letters.

His mind ventured back to the day that she had given it to him. It was an unexpected gesture, really. The pair had been sharing lunch on the patio of JAG Headquarters. They'd just returned from their harrowing submarine ordeal involving Chief Petty Officer Hodge, his undiagnosed Munchausen By Proxy, and his botched attempt to dispose of them. It was an event that changed the dynamic of their partnership forever; an event that made Harm nauseous to think of how she nearly slipped away from him. It went without saying that, upon their return home, the heavy cloud that hung over their professional partnership had lifted, allowing them to once again enjoy the camaraderie that had long been a staple of their relationship.

It was a warm and sunny afternoon, the two of them laughing uncontrollably over a story involving one of his many ill-inspired shenanigans at the Academy. When the laughter subsided some moments later, Mac's suddenly grew solemn and she declared she had something for him. She was quiet as she reached across the table, and he heard the unmistakable soft clink of metal hitting metal. He looked down at the proffered object to find that it was a key. To say he was surprised was definitely an understatement. He couldn't remember what he had been initially confused about the most: the purpose for the key, or the cause behind the sudden shift in her demeanor.

He had picked up the key, looking at her expectantly. Her face was undecipherable as she explained. "Just in case something ever…happens to me. And, if you ever need a place to go, you're always welcome in my home".

Harm was floored. Sure, he had plenty of girlfriends in the past that had given him a key to their place, but it was for one reason, and one reason only. This, though, was _entirely different_. It was something no girlfriend or casual fling had ever offered. Mac wasn't offering her body; rather she was offering a place of safety and comfort. More importantly, her place.

Sacred ground.

He recalled with clarity that she had once mentioned, in jest, she considered her home to be the one place she didn't have to pretend to be someone she wasn't. While Harm had playfully ribbed her about at the time, it was upon receiving her key that he had a poignant epiphany. Home really was the only place Sarah Mackenzie could just be….Sarah. Not Mac, the hardcore, tough-as-nails, fight-like-hell-to-be-respected Marine. Just Sarah, the beautiful, tender-hearted woman he loved so fiercely that it shook him to his very core. It left him raw. Exposed.

Harm had remained silent for several minutes as he ran his thumb over the key, the significance of her gesture not completely lost on him.

"I picked it out myself, so you'll always know which one is mine. There's nothing more frustrating than searching for what you need and having to try ten different keys before you get the right one," Mac continued, referring to the special paint on the key and the tiny white jewels that adorned the top.

_'The same thing could be said for men'_.

She watched him carefully over the rim of her Styrofoam cup. She'd been contemplating giving him a key for some time. But something always held her back. Their near-fatal encounter with Hodge on the submarine and the knowledge that had it not been for Harm, she would be six feet under instead of sitting on the patio with him, was the push she needed. Mac gestured towards the key in his hand. "You're the only person who has my key, just so you know".

Harm felt an inexplicable sense of pride and honor that he, Harmon Rabb Jr, notoriously known for _fucking. shit. up_., had been entrusted with a key to Sarah Mackenzie's safe place. Her home. A place where she did not have to pretend to be stronger. Braver. Invincible.

He immediately added it to his set of keys, placing it on a separate ring. It was just too special to be cluttered up with the ugly ones. "I'll protect this with my life. You can count on it," he solemnly promised, looking her dead in the eyes. He meant it, too. Every word. Every syllable.

Mac nodded in acknowledgement, quirking her lips in that famous half-smile she so often gave him when she felt he was taking things a little too seriously. "You'd better". She held his gaze for a long moment before she shifted away.

And then the serious conversation was over and they were back to their usual banter. As the afternoon passed, Harm could have sworn that the sun shone brighter and the birds chirped more merrily in that moment that they ever had before.

The sound of elevator doors opening startled Harm out of his reverie. He eagerly looked in its direction, hoping to see the object of his thoughts exiting its doors. A man and woman, clearly having enjoyed too much of their evening drink, stumbled down the hallway to their apartment, laughing at some unheard joke. The man struggled with the lock at his door for several seconds before he managed to open it, sloppily dragging the giggling woman behind him. The door shut with a resounding thud in the empty hallway; a shriek and a giggle was briefly heard from the other side of the door before all went quiet.

Against his intuition, Harm abandoned his idea to use the entrusted key, instead choosing to shove the set of keys back into his pocket.

_'I'm sure Mac's fine. No need to worry. You're overreacting_'.

He really did not want to intrude on her evening. With a final look at her door, he turned and headed in the direction of the elevators that had delivered the inebriated couple. Something nagged him at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Shrugging it off as fatigue, he returned to his SUV. He had to pick up Sturgis and get over to port in time to catch the flight headed out to Norfolk. From there they would get a helo ride to the carrier to begin the investigation. Harm could already feel the beginnings of a headache creeping into his temples. He made a mental note to throw a bottle of Ibuprofen in his suitcase as he steered the SUV towards the interstate ramp.

It was going to be a long week.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2115 ZULU

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Mac shoved open the door to her apartment and shut it with a weary sigh. She felt as if she were in the midst of a terrible nightmare, begging to be awakened from its cold, evil darkness.

_'Get it together, Marine. You've got a lot to take care of before you leave' _

Making her way into her bedroom, she began composing a mental checklist of everything she would need for her flight. At least the temperatures were going to be relatively the same, which meant she didn't have to put too much thought into clothing. Opening her closet, she retrieved her tattered suitcase stashed in the far corner.

_'Man, I really need to get a new one. She's seen a lot of miles_'.

Mac noted the threadbare seams and half-busted zippers. At least the wheels were intact, a fact for which Mac was grateful. It was strange how the smallest of blessings could bring the most comfort. She was in the process of placing clothes in her suitcase when her cell phone rang.

It was the Admiral.

"Yes sir?" she answered, sandwiching the phone against her shoulder as searched her nightstand drawer for the pen and notepad she kept stored. She settled herself on the edge of the bed.

"Mac, I got a flight on Delta for 2345 tonight. I know it doesn't give you a lot of notice, but it was the earliest one I could get. The next flight was at 1030 and I felt you probably wouldn't want to leave that late," AJ informed. The airline booking clerk had been extremely helpful when AJ had called and explained the situation to her. The two of them discussed the flight options available. While the clerk was not technically supposed to sell tickets for the flight past 2100, she had taken kindly to his request and sent the transaction through.

_'Sometimes life does have a way of bringing what you need the most at the right time'. _

"I also reserved a room for you at a local B&B for as long as you need. I've stayed there before; very cozy, serves breakfast, and is about ten minutes from Leavenworth." In addition to the flight, the B&B just happened to have one room left. Yet another blessing.

"I…sir, I…I don't even know what to say. I didn't even think of room accommodations. I guess…it's just all a little overwhelming," Mac admitted, writing down the flight itinerary. "What is the contact information for the B&B so I can call with my credit card?"

AJ absentmindedly waved off her request even though she couldn't see his gesture. "It's all taken care of. And no arguments, is that understood?"

"But-" Mac went to object. She couldn't allow him to pay for all of this!

"What did I just say?" AJ firmly cut her off, leaving no room for arguments.

For the second time that evening, Mac was stunned by his actions. It was a side of him she was unaccustomed to seeing. Despite his staff having pegged him as a hardass, the truth was, Admiral Chegwidden had a big heart. "Yes sir, understood sir."

Satisfied he had cut her off at the pass, he continued, "It's late and you still need to pack. Now, what did I instruct you to do when you left my house this evening?"

She couldn't help but smile at his fatherly gestures. "You instructed me to contact you the moment I arrive in Kansas. But sir, you do realize it will be most likely be around 0900 when I get there? Are you sure you want me calling that late?" It was already 2155 and she knew he had to be just as tired as she was. An early morning wake-up call was inconsiderate at best.

AJ chuckled over the phone despite the heavy situation at hand. "Yes, I am sure Mac, I don't need much beauty sleep. The universe gave up on this bald, irascible horse's ass a long time ago. I'll be waiting for your call".

Mac laughed softly, a sound that warmed AJ's heart. If he managed to bring a smile out of her for the evening at his expense, it was absolutely worth it. "Yes sir. You have my word."

Satisfied with her commitment, he instructed her to get some rest on the flight before ending the conversation. He glanced at the clock, quickly doing a calculation. She was right; it would be well into the early morning hours before her plane would land. But AJ didn't care. He knew he would not sleep until he received her call to confirm her safe arrival.

_'No matter how old your children get, you never sleep until you know they are okay'. _

On the other end of the disconnected line, Mac could only stare at the phone in her hand. She wondered what she did in her life to deserve such a kind-hearted commanding officer. She had grown to think of him as a father figure and considered him one of the most honorable men she'd ever met, let alone serve under. He had been a strong presence in her life since she first arrived at JAG: letting her 'spread her wings' and agreeing to take her back when she realized the mistake she had made, his support in the wake of her father's sudden death, the ordeal with the psychotic detective-turned-stalker.

And then her murder trial and Admiral's Mast.

Mac had never felt so low as she did while standing in his office. The look of shock and disappointment in his face was one she would never forget for all the days of her life. It was like a hot knife through the very center of her heart. Despite bringing embarrassment to the Corps and JAG Headquarters, he chose to keep her in his command when he could have easily sent her to another billet. It was a decision in which Mac couldn't quite make heads or tails. Most would have considered her a liability and immediately relived themselves of her.

But not Admiral Chegwidden.

Running a hand through her hair to ease the headache coming on, she turned her attention back to packing. She would have to hurry if she wanted to catch her flight.

_'Remind me to throw a bottle of Ibuprofen in my suitcase'. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2200

Macs Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Just forty-five minutes later, Mac adjusted her backpack and wheeled her suitcase to the front door. Giving her apartment a last once-over, she did a quick check to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. Given her mental state, it would be easy to forget something important, like her keys. Convinced that she had everything but the kitchen sink packed, she clicked off the light and shut the door, embarking on the first steps of many on a difficult journey.

::END CHAPTER 2::


	4. Chapter 3

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Three

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed August 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful characters of JAG do not belong to me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2332

Dulles Airport

Washington, D.C

Mac navigated her way through the deserted airport, scanning the overhead signs for the terminal. Security had been a relatively quick experience, thank goodness. The less she had to deal with, the better. Spotting the appropriate gate, she wheeled her suitcase along, setting it against her leg as she fished out the ticket. The ticket agent processed her ticket and waved her on thru. The smell of jet fuel and the low roar from the dual engines permeated the small gap connecting the gate panel and aircraft hatch. Mac wrinkled her nose, remembering the time Harm told her how much he loved the smell of jet fuel because it took him back to his fighter pilot days.

_'That's my flyboy. Only he would enjoy the smell of something like that'._

She smiled.

_'Wait a minute...'my flyboy'? Where did that come from?_'

Mac bit back a sigh as she realized her mind, once again, had wandered. She was just tired, that was all! She shook her head to clear it as she stepped aboard, acknowledging the stewardess' greeting. As one of the last passengers to board, Mac noted the cabin was rather empty, one of the few perks of a red-eye direct flight. Fewer people on the flight meant less time waiting to deplane. The flight was almost five hours long and she was anxious to get to her uncle. After shoving her suitcase in the overhead compartment, she situated herself in the blue leather seat, turning her attention to the scenery outside. The torrential downpour earlier had just decreased to a steady drizzle. Errant raindrops snaked their way down the plexiglass window, leaving straggly trails of dirty water in their wake. She pressed her forehead against the cool window to soothe the dull ache creeping into her temples. The ibuprofen she had taken earlier had not been enough to completely chase her headache away, and it now returned with a vengeance. For a few moments, she gazed out into the dark, the rain casting a hazy glow on the amber lights surrounding the gate terminals. In the distance, the lights of the air traffic control tower blinked sleepily, a stark disruption against the opaque canvas of the sky. Settling comfortably in her seat, Mac finally allowed her mind wander to thoughts of Harm. She wondered what he was doing now.

_'Probably suffering through a miserable night, trying to sleep in a 5'8" bed for his 6'3" lanky frame_'.

A mental image came into her mind: the tall aviator-turned-lawyer asleep in his bunk, his limbs folded into a human pretzel, knees pressed up into his nose. Closing her weary eyes, she wished more than ever that Harm was sitting next to her rather than an empty seat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0100

Somewhere in the Atlantic

Cabin 21 Bunk 3

USS Patrick Henry

Harm lay awake in his uncomfortable bunk, unable to sleep. Images of Mac floated through his mind. For some inexplicable reason, she had been a persistence presence on his mind constantly since he'd left her apartment.

Scratch that.

She'd been on his mind _all day._ And it had grown worse when he couldn't get in touch with her. As it was nearly one in the morning, he wondered what she was doing at this hour.

_'Sleeping Rabb, like you should be!'._

While he WAS tired, and rightfully so, he was never bothered when she occupied his cerebral space. He never tired of thinking of her. If he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander, he could almost smell her light perfume circling in the expanse of air around him.

_'There you again Rabb! What is with you?_'

He dismissed his concern as merely a result of not having worked a case together in a few weeks. It usually happened that, following an abnormally long duration of time in which they didn't pair up or spar in court, she would be on his mind more than usual. But this time, something just didn't feel right. For the life of him, he couldn't explain it, couldn't put his finger on it. While his mind told him there had been no indication whatsoever that anything was wrong: no calls from the staff back at JAG HQ had been dispatched through at the carrier, no emergency texts or calls from her, and certainly no calls from the Admiral, he felt, in his heart, all was not well.

Turning on his side, he whispered a silent prayer that she was okay. But even as he slipped into the blissful unaware, she stayed on his mind and in his dreams.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0400

Airport

Leavenworth, KS

Due to the storms that hovered over Dulles, the flight had been delayed until a slack in the rain allowed a window of opportunity to depart. Mac had tried to get some sleep during the long flight, but she found herself sleeping fitfully, jerking awake every fifteen minutes or so. She had only just dozed off for what seemed like the hundredth time when the bumpy impact of aircraft tires against the tarmac jostled her awake. She bit back the fuzz of irritation. Now was not the time to show weakness; she would simply have to rely on her Marine fatigue training and resiliency to get her through. As the ground crew connected the terminal gate, passengers began gathering their belongings, eager to be on their way. The gentleman in front of her kindly retrieved her suitcase for her, a gesture Mac greatly appreciated.

Once outside the terminal, Mac searched for the taxi portal, deferring her call to the Admiral until she settled in. As the escalator descended, she was astonished to find transportation had already been arranged.

Yet another unexpected gesture from AJ.

A young gentleman stood waiting with a dry erase board with her name on it. He was young looking, nicely dressed, and with a pleasant demeanor. He greeted her with an eager handshake. "Colonel Mackenzie, I presume?'

Mac confirmed his assumption, taking his outstretched hand. "Yes. I assume a man by the name of Admiral AJ Chegwidden arranged this?" She shifted the heavy backpack on her shoulder as she righted her suitcase.

"Yes ma'am, he did indeed. I'm Erik Manchester," he introduced himself as he withdrew his hand. "Oh! Here, let me take this for you". He grabbed her suitcase handle as they walked towards the exit.

She offered no objection. For once, Mac didn't want to play the role of "tough woman"; frankly, she was exhausted.

"The B&B is about a ten to fifteen-minute ride. It's a straight shot. No traffic to worry about this early in the morning, which is nice," he explained as they navigated around a few travelers and airport carts. He had never received a call from a Two-Star Admiral requesting his transportation services, so he took special care to ensure his passenger was looked after. Besides, if the dark circles under her eyes were an indication, she was exhausted. "I'm afraid it's rainy, but the B&B has a nice portico that I can pull under so you won't get wet".

She was tired, oh so tired. But sleep was not a priority right now; she needed to get to Matthew. "That's great. It was raining heavily when we left Dulles. Our flight was delayed for almost an hour".

"You were lucky," he acknowledged. "Usually, if the weather is bad, they ground all flights". They arrived at the taxi lane and his car sat parallel to the curb, its hazard lights flashing. "Here we are, ma'am,". He popped the trunk with his key fob, placing Mac's suitcase in. He quickly went around the car to the driver's side and got in, cranking up the heat when he noticed her briskly rubbing her hands together in the rearview mirror. "Let me know if I need to turn the heat up higher".

"Oh, this is fine, thank you"

Erik navigated the departure lanes leaving the airport parking garage and then they were quickly on their way, turning north on the somewhat desolate highway. The roadside scenery went by in flash, blurring together in a bland canvas that was every bit as dark and dreary as Mac felt inside. As she allowed herself to get lost in her own thoughts, there were three men on her mind.

All for very different reasons.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

00645

Mess Hall

USS Patrick Henry

Somewhere in the Atlantic

The morning mess hall activity was buzzing by the time Harm arrived for breakfast. Following a night of fitful rest that had nothing to do with sleeping in a too-small bunk, he knew a tall thermos of coffee was most certainly in order. And, by the way his joints ached, it would have to be jet-fuel grade. It was the same kind of coffee Mac made at headquarters but nobody could drink. It had become a friendly competition of sorts to see who could beat her to the coffee maker in the mornings. The winner was allowed the first and final cup before everyone was forced to drink Mac's battery acid. Harm frequently gave her hell over it, accusing her of making it so strong that it could melt the bars at Alcatraz! She had merely laughed in response, stating he just couldn't handle it, a point of which he couldn't argue.

As he stood in line behind several PO's, the aromas of freshly cooked breakfast meat greeted his nose. He shook his head at the sight of the offending meat stacked high in their warming pans.

_'Mac would be in heaven right now'_

His face wrinkled in repugnance. As a near-vegetarian and the exact opposite of Mac, he never missed an opportunity to rib her about her eating habits, especially when it concerned a dead animal. And she always took it in stride. That was one of the things he loved about her the most. She always knew when he was giving her a hard time in jest and never took offense.

_'One of the things you loved about her most?_'

There it was.

Again.

Another slip of his mind. And yet, was it really? Was it just a Freudian slip, or something more?

He couldn't be so sure.

He also couldn't push the uneasiness out of his mind that had been lingering since yesterday. Of course, Mac was an ever-present thought on his mind, but this time it was _different._ He couldn't explain it, dismiss it, or rationalize it_._

_It just was_.

Pulling his phone from his shirt pocket, his heart sank when he saw no missed calls or messages from her.

_'She's probably still asleep, Rabb. You are an hour ahead, remember?_'

He shook his head with a sigh, shoving the phone back in its rightful place. He always enjoyed working cases when it involved being on a naval carrier, but this was the first time he could ever remember that he wished he were back home at JAG.

_'I guess there's a first time for everything, huh_?'

He cast a dismal look over the food options in front of him.

Finding nothing appealing in the first section of the line, he went a few paces ahead until he found "the edibles", (as Mac liked to refer to them). In one of their many playful arguments over whose diet was the better of the two, she had endearingly termed his choice of veggies and fruit, "rabbit food". While Harm insisted that he was the winner, in reality it was Mac, but as par for Rabb modus operandis, his big male ego just wouldn't allow him to admit it. He received her signature one-raised eyebrow and quirk of the lips that meant she was on to him.

What he wouldn't give to hear her bantering with him right now! His ability to make her smile or laugh certainly inflated his ego a bit, but it did nothing to outshine the radiant smile she seemed to reserve just for him.

Man, he was really missing her!

A PO politely asking to cut around him brought his attention back to what he was doing.

_Breakfast. _

_Right._

Harm flashed a smile of apology and motioned the man ahead. Settling on a bowl of quick-cooked oats and some assorted fruit, he procured a seat in one of the plastic chairs pushed under a nearby table. With a frustration-laced sigh, he realized that while he'd remembered to grab a coffee mug from the beverage cart, he'd completely forgotten to fill it.

_'Jeez Rabb, get with the program_!'

If he had even a hope or prayer of getting through the investigation without being torn apart by the SecNav, he definitely needed to get his mind on the task at hand. He dragged his hand raggedly over his face, feeling the day-old stubble.

_Shit._

He'd also forgotten to shave.

Jet lag aside, he seriously needed to get his head in the game. The investigation had not even started, yet Harm felt like he'd been away for ten years. His brow furrowed; he was anxious to get back home.

"Missing something?"

Sturgis' voice broke through his cloudy thoughts as he settled next to him. A plate piled high with eggs, biscuits, and bacon, along with a small carafe of coffee, teetered precariously on his crowded meal tray. A knowing smirk tugged as his lips. The question he posed wasn't referring to just the coffee.

Harm sidestepped the landmine planted. He flashed a smile of appreciation as he filled his cup. "Thanks man". He took a swig; not too strong, not too weak. Just the way he liked it. He couldn't help but think Mac would have tossed it after the first sip, calling the concoction a colossal embarrassment to the Navy. He discreetly checked his watch.

It was almost 0500 headquarters time.

She should be getting up by now.

If he hurried, he may just be able to catch her on her way to the office. He really needed to talk to her, even if it was just to hear her tell him how much he was disrupting her beauty routine.

"So, what gives? You're a million miles away," Sturgis asked, starling Harm back to the present. He dug into his scrambled eggs, which were a little bit dry, but carrier food was not known for its flavor nor flair. He sprinkled another packet of pepper on them as he looked at Harm expectantly. His friend had barely touched his food; they were due in sickbay in twenty minutes to begin preliminary interviews.

Harm swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal, buying himself a second to fabricate a good answer. While Sturgis was an old friend from the Academy, Harm wasn't so sure he could trust him."Just ready to get started on this investigation".

Sturgis shot him a dubious look. "Let me try this again." He watched Harm shove his oatmeal around, a telltale sign that something was off. "You want to tell me what's on your mind? And let me help you: it has nothing to do with this investigation". For all his bravado in the courtroom, Harm was as readable as an open book in large print, complete with a narrator!

Harm attempted another bite of his oatmeal before deciding either his taste buds were being obstinate or the soppy substance was too bland to be palatable. He swapped the oatmeal for the plate of fruit. He could feel Sturgis' eyes boring into his face. "So, Mr. 'Expert-On-My-Mental-State', pray tell, what IS on my mind?" he asked, pretending to occupy himself with spearing fruit onto the fork.

Sturgis had to hold back a laugh. No wonder Mac wanted to throttle him constantly! He was so bullheaded! "Well, for starters, a certain Marine Colonel".

Harm set the half-eaten strawberry on his plate. "You haven't heard from her, have you? I mean, she hasn't called, has she?"

Puzzled, Sturgis shook his head. "No. I spoke with her the day before we left, but that was all. Why do you ask?" He would bet good money something had happened between the two. He just didn't know what.

He worried his bottom lip. "I don't know…something doesn't feel right". He just couldn't shake that nagging feeling; the longer time went by the more worried he grew.

"Well, I'm sure if there was something wrong, the Admiral would have called us by now," Sturgis offered, taking a sip of his coffee while mulling Harm's question over in his mind. As far as he was aware, everything was in standard operating order at HQ. Still, he was intrigued. It was not like Harm to openly express worry over his partner, especially in an environment such as the one they were currently in. "Look man, we did have a long flight and only just got in this morning. Maybe you're just tired?"

_'Or that you're in love with her'_.

The moment his big toe had crossed the threshold into JAG HQ, Sturgis realized Harm and Mac were a bonded pair; rather, a packaged deal. While they vehemently denied it to themselves, each other, and everyone around them, it was painfully obvious their feelings ran far deeper than friendship.

Harm dismissed the suggestion. "No, that's what I thought, too, but this feeling just keeps nagging me. I can't put my finger on it". Even _talking_ about it heightened his sense of worry. It was like his radar was going off but the cause for it remained frustratingly elusive.

Sturgis offered up another suggestion. "Why don't you ask the Admiral if he knows anything? We're scheduled to talk with him this afternoon. You can ask him then". He poured himself another cup, then wadded up his trash on the meal tray.

Harm was thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah. Good idea, Sturgis. Thanks".

Satisfied his friend's anxiety seemed to abate for the time being, he rose to his feet and clapped a hand on Harm's shoulder. "Anytime. Now, we've got ten minutes to get to sickbay before the captain serves our sixes to the SecNav. On a golden platter!"

Harm groaned, following Sturgis to the trash receptacle. The two dumped the remnants of their breakfast and exited the mess hall.

One man's mind was on the investigation.

The other one on Mac.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0400

Memories Bed and Breakfast

Leavenworth, KS

The ride to the B&B was indeed short. Before Mac realized it, Erik was pulling the car under the portico. The rain had picked up during the commute. Mac was grateful for the portico. Memories was a grand sight to behold with its Victorian-style architecture, deep wrap around porch, and gingerbread accents. Despite its grandiosity, it gave off a quaint vibe with an abundance of neatly kept flower beds, all of which were overflowing with coniferous shrubs and evergreen bushes. A variety of winter flowers provided clusters of color scattered throughout.

Mac unbuckled her seat belt, intending to reach for her door handle, but Erik was already at her side, suitcase in hand.

_'How did he managed to do that so quickly_? _I must be out of it more than I thought. I have GOT to get myself together_'.

She cinched the belt on her coat. The driving rain threatened to blow under the portico, and it was freezing. They made their way into the front room of the B&B, which was empty save for one lone clerk working the desk. The front room was adorned with historic portraits of various people, most likely family of the ions of the estate's former owners. An elegant crystal chandelier hung above, casting iridescent diamonds of light beneath it. Crown molding ran the entire perimeter of the room, giving it a refined aire of importance. An antique runner stretched from the door to the desk. Period furniture, while sparse, filled the room and provided adequate seating for visitors.

Erik released the handle on her suitcase, propping it against his leg as approached the desk. "Morning Emily! I am dropping off my rider, Lt Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. A man by the name of Admiral AJ Chegwidden has already arranged her room".

Emily set aside the magazine she was looking at and acknowledge the pair with a bright smile. "Same to you, Erik. Good to see you again!" She retrieved a room key from the metal storage box behind her. "Ah yes, Colonel Mackenzie. Your Admiral called ahead to make sure your room was ready". She handed the key to Mac. "Room 230. Up the stairs, straight down the hall. Last room on the right. I must say it's one of my favorites. You'll have a beautiful view overlooking the gardens".

Mac fished out her credit card, but Emily waved her off.

"Already taken care of. The room is for as long as you need it. I was requested to not discuss the amount or take payment from you".

Mac was stunned. The Admiral had gone out of his way to ensure she was taken care of. It was the most any man, aside from Matthew, had ever done for her.

"That Admiral is a nice man, that's for sure. He certainly takes care of his people". Emily returned to her perch on the stool. "We make our complimentary breakfast from scratch. It's served from six to nine a.m. Our dining room is to the left". She gestured to the sign above Mac's head with an arrow pointing to the dining room.

While the mention of food did not turn her stomach as easily as it had at AJ's home, Mac nearly blanched. She could not remember the last time she ate anything of substance.

_'That's probably why you have a headache from hell, Mackenzie'_

She turned her attention back to Erik. "Thank you for the ride". She went to reach for her suitcase, but Erik shook his head.

"I'll take your suitcase up. Room 230, correct?"

"Yep, last door on the right. Has a plaque with a sunflower and room number stamped on it," Emily supplied, giving Erik a soft nod. The moment Mac had entered the lobby, Emily noted she looked ready to drop from exhaustion. While AJ had not divulged in-depth details for the reason of her stay, he did share she was dealing with a difficult family situation and instructed them to take as good of care of her as possible. Money was no object, that was for certain.

Erik was already making his way up the staircase when Mac realized this and she hurried after him. Upon arriving at the correct room, she handed him $20, but he politely refused. "No ma'am. Already taken care of. Your Admiral told me to tell you not to argue".

Mac just shook her head and muttered under her breath.

_'I should have known'_.

Giving Erik a small smile of gratitude, she reached out to shake his hand in farewell. "Thank you so much for your kindness, I truly appreciate it".

Erik grinned. "My pleasure, ma'am. Now, I don't know if you are aware, but your Admiral hired me to be your personal driver for the duration of your stay". He handed her an embossed business card. "Here's my contact info. Call me whenever you are ready".

Her mouth dropped open. She looked like a fish out of water. There was no telling how much this was costing AJ, and he did it all without a second thought. She cleared her throat, forcing the tears back. "Thank you. I will".

Erik gave a nod before turning towards the stairs. "Oh, and one more order from your Admiral: Get some sleep".

Mac chuckled through concealed tears. "I will. Thanks".

"Night ma'am. Or," he glanced at his watch, "in this case: 'Good morning'". And then he was gone, leaving Mac alone with her thoughts.

Mac slid the keycard thru the slot, anxious for a hot bath and a chance to catch some sleep. Flipping on the light, she wheeled her suitcase through the door, setting it next to the antique cherry armoire.

First things first: call the Admiral.

Cringing, Mac noted that the time was just after 0500. She unzipped her suitcase and retrieved her toiletry bag, fully intent on getting a hot bath as soon as their conversation was over. She sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed, hesitating briefly before hitting the 'send' button.

After the third ring, a mumbled greeting answered her call. "'Lo? Whoo iss it?".

"Admiral, um….it's Mac". Her voice was soft, even though nobody was around to be disturbed.

AJ was instantly awake. He had fallen asleep despite trying to stay awake for her call. "Did you make it okay? How was your flight? How was Erik? Was he waiting on you at the airport? What about the room? Is it okay?" He fired off questions like a well-trained interrogator.

Mac laughed at the twenty-question burn. "Yes sir, I did. I'm sorry for not calling sooner. My flight was delayed due to the weather. And Erik was a godsend. I'm sitting in my room right now; it's beautiful, thank you."

"Good to hear. Well, now I can rest better knowing you made it," AJ stated. "Get some sleep, Marine. And call me when you get done at Leavenworth".

"Yes sir, I will. Sir," she struggled to keep the tears from her voice, "I….I don't know what I would have done without you taking care of everything for me. It's almost more than I can handle".

Even though he was 2000 miles away, the fatigue was evident in her voice. It made his heart constrict. "Anytime Mac, I'm just glad I could help".

Folding her legs, she nervously picked at a stray thread in the comforter. "Um, sir, can I ask a favor? I feel bad, as you've done so much for me already, but this….it's...important, sir".

"You name it Mac and I'll do it if it's within my power".

"Well, as you know, Harm…I mean, Commander Rabb is dealing with the West investigation. Would you…keep my situation to yourself? Just for the time being? He doesn't need any distractions. And well," she blew out a breath, "there's not much he can do".

AJ smiled at the slip. It was obvious there was more than friendship between them. As such, he could hardly be surprised by her request; they constantly sought to protect each other. "Mac, he'll want to know. I'll keep it under wraps. _FOR NOW,"_ he emphasized the last two words. "But if I don't hear about it in two days, consider him told. He deserves to know, and you deserve his help and support".

She preferred longer, but she accepted his offer. "That's only fair. I just don't want him worrying or trying to leave the carrier to come out here. It's the last thing he needs. And I think it goes without saying, the SecNav would have his six".

AJ really couldn't argue with that last statement. After his conversation with Mac the night prior, the SecNav had called, demanding AJ expedite closure of the investigation so he could rid his nephew of the black cloud. AJ had been forced to bite his tongue, diplomatically reminding him the investigation hadn't even begun. "I agree, Mac. Try to get some sleep. I will talk to you later in the day".

"You too, Admiral". Mac hung up the phone and went to run her bath water. An assortment of soothing bath salts lined the shelf above the claw-footed bathtub. Settling on a blend of lavender and chamomile, she tossed in a handful, her thoughts drifting aimlessly as the crystals.

Some time later, the water grew tepid, forcing her to get out. She yawned heavily, struggling to keep her eyes open long enough to change into her nightwear. Wearily, she burrowed under the covers. She was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, her last thought on her beloved flyboy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER THREE::


	5. Chapter 4

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Four

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed August 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful characters of JAG do not belong to me. If they did, Harm and Mac would have been banging like a screen door in a hurricane the first season she was introduced.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0730

Memories Bed and Breakfast

Room 230

Kansas

Throwing the covers off her legs, Mac brought herself to a sitting position on the side of the bed, groaning as the blood pounded harshly against her temples. In addition to insomnia, she was a frequent recipient of headaches, but couldn't recall having one that hurt this bad. She popped

She made a quick call to Chaplain Gaines and the two settled on a meeting time. She then called Erik to arrange for pickup in forty minutes. While Mac was anxious to get to her uncle's side, she dreaded it.

_'Well, sitting here isn't going to get anything accomplished, Mackenzie'_.

She padded into the bathroom, the scent of bath salts still lingering in the air. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she noted the skin underneath her eyes was puffy and turning dark. She grabbed the waterproof concealer from her makeup bag. Matthew was a very observant person; he never missed even the slightest change in an individual. He often noted, with concern, her weight loss or fatigue whenever she would visit. She shook her head in disapproval.

_'He can't see me like this. I've gotta do something'_.

Dabbing a small dot of concealer on her finger, she methodically rubbed it in, making sure to cover the her childhood, the numerous times Joe Mackenzie's fists had made impact with Mac's face had made her an expert in applying make up to cover the discoloration.

As well as her mother.

She lost count of the number of times she perched on the cold marble of the bathroom counter, watching Deanna use concealer to her own bruises. She had grown tired of hearing her make one lame excuse after another as to why Joe lost his temper. A wry smile tugged at her mouth.

_'I guess the bastard did teach me something useful'._

Who knew the effects of childhood abuse could, in a sardonic way, come in handy later in one's life?

She took a second look in the mirror.

_'Good. I don't look half-dead anymore'. _

Satisfied with her appearance, she quickly changed clothes and headed downstairs; she had less than twenty minutes until Erik arrived.

The dining room had several guests mulling about, and while the space was small, it was not cramped or cluttered. There was plenty of room to sit at the big oak table in the middle. Mac settled on a few pieces of fruit and some toast, hoping it would be light enough to calm the jitters in her stomach. The bountiful spread of homecooked food was fit for a king, but she found herself unable to eat. The knots in her stomach took up too much room. She managed to take a few bites of what was on her plate. The rest of the small bits were pushed around, the smell and taste unsuccessful in stimulating her appetite.

She shook her head.

_'If Harm were here to see this, I'd never hear the end of it!'_

He always gave her a hard time about her appetite, often asking how someone with her petite build could put away food so quickly. She never told him the truth. It was too…depressing. Instead, she led him to believe it was just good genetics. As the unwanted product of a loveless marriage, young Sarah was often left at the mercy of her mother. Mac always relied on her having enough sense to hide the monthly-issued food stamps before Joe Mackenzie could trade them to support his alcohol addiction. As such, she never knew when she would get her next meal. When the opportunity came to eat, she ate as quickly as she could before Joe could take away her food as punishment for some imagined transgression. It was a habit that had unfortunately followed her into adulthood.

"Ready to go Ms. Mackenzie?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Erik.

Shit. She hadn't been aware that he'd arrived.

_'Get your head in the game, Mackenzie'_

She rose from the table, then tossed the remainder of her food in the nearby garbage can. She smiled apologetically. "Yes, I am, thank you". She donned her coat, not looking forward to experiencing the dreary weather again. It seemed that all it did lately was rain.

A rush of cold wind hit them the moment they stepped out. The rain had picked up again and it was a steady drizzle. "Leavenworth Correctional Facility, right?" he asked as he opened the back door for her.

Mac nodded, setting her backpack on the floorboard. "Yes. It's about fifteen minutes from here. You'll have to go to the main gate on the south side".

"Yes ma'am". He shut the door and quickly made his way to the driver's side. "I won't be able to go past the front parking lot due to security, but I will get you as close to the entrance as possible. I have an umbrella if you need it."

Mac shook her head as she buckled her seatbelt. "No need I have one of my own, but thanks". She was anxious to get to her uncle. The sooner they were on their way, the sooner she could lay eyes on him. For some strange reason, this knowledge made her feel a little better despite the fact it did not change the circumstances.

In the short time that it took to reach the facility, the rain had turned into a torrential downpour, as though the weather was trying to match the heaviness in her heart. As Erik pulled into the outer parking lot, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. The facility towered above, beckoning, yet mocking.

Erik moved the gearshift to park as Mac pulled out her umbrella. "Give me a call when you are ready. It may take a little bit to get back as I have some other clients on transport today, but I will get here as soon as I can". He reached over to turn up the heater and caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror. Whatever she was going thru, it certainly seemed she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Thanks, I will". Mac exited the car and deployed the umbrella, finding each step closer pulled her towards a widening depression. She carefully made her way across the parking lot, sidestepping the flooded potholes. Once inside, she went through several rounds of security checks before she was brought to the visitor's area and made to log in.

"You must be Colonel Mackenzie," a voice startled her out of her thoughts.

A man looking to be in his early fifties appeared at her side. He was dressed in the traditional black pants, black shirt and white collar, indicative of his role as facility clergyman. His eyes, framed by silver rimmed glasses, were kind and soft. "I'm Chaplain Jake Gaines". He held out his hand in greeting. "Thank you for coming out here as soon as you did. It will help speed up the paperwork process".

Mac returned his handshake. While she was not religious, per se, she was instantly put at ease by his presence. "Thank you, Chaplain. I got a flight out as soon as I could, thanks to my C.O."

He gestured towards the hallway behind him. "If you have no objections, we'll go ahead and start in the conference room". He motioned her to follow as they navigated their way through the facility. "I am sorry we are meeting under such circumstances, but it is a pleasure to finally get to meet you in person. I've heard nothing but good things about you from your uncle". They passed through a set of double doors, then traveled a long but narrow hallway. "It sounds as though you have a wonderful CO, Colonel. You don't find too many of those".

Mac nodded, falling into step alongside him as he made a left turn down another hallway. "Yes, I most certainly do, and please, call me Mac".

He acknowledged her request with his own. "Well, in that case, call me Jake". He stopped abruptly outside a door with a plaque that read, 'Conference Room #1'. "Ah, here we are". He pulled out a key from his shirt pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a sparsely furnished room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out.

_'I can sure use a cup of that right now'. _

The table situated in the far corner of the room held a small coffee pot that was percolating the golden liquid. Styrofoam cups, along with an assortment of coffee condiments, were lined up neatly in a basket by the pot. Another table was positioned in the middle of the room directly under the two overhead fluorescent fixtures. Four chairs were pushed underneath. The lighting was a little, but the room was clean and tidy otherwise. Mac noted, with appreciation, it lacked the usual smell of dirty gym socks that lingered throughout the facility.

"Can I get you a cup?" he asked, gesturing towards the coffee table.

Mac set her backpack on the floor and draped her coat over the back of her chair. "Oh yes, that would be wonderful. Black, please." She was feeling the effects of jet lag and a restless night, not to mention the headache that pounded dully in her forehead. Coffee was most definitely in order. Jake poured two cups, setting one in front of her. She accepted it with gratitude, wrapping her cold hands around the warm cup while savoring the aroma. She took a careful sip.

_'Hmmm, not bad'_.

While it didn't hold the usual strength of the coffee she made back at JAG, it had enough kick that it would clear the fog that had settled in her mind. Her thoughts went back to a playful argument that she'd had with Harm in the breakroom where he informed her that her coffee was undrinkable….

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_FLASHBACK_

Harm waltzed into the breakroom, whistling cheerfully as it was Friday-_FINALLY!_\- time for the weekend! Not only was it the weekend, but the weather forecast for both days looked to be absolutely gorgeous. A weekend spent flying was certainly in the plans. He was itching to get back in his biplane! It had been too long since he was up in 'Sarah'. It had also been too long since he'd visited his grandmother, and she let him know it. His ear was still burning from where he'd spent the better part of the hour being good-naturedly chastised for his prolonged absence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac settled the carafe back in place as she inhaled the heavy aroma of her freshly brewed coffee. It was one of the few perks of getting to work early; she could make the communal coffee the way she preferred. She didn't know what it was with the Navy, but they seriously lacked training when it came to making good coffee. She took a sip of the liquid gold and closed her eyes, bliss written across her face.

Perfect. Strong.

Just the way she liked it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harm stopped short at the look of pure enjoyment on her face. It was rare that he caught her in moments like this; unaware, guard down. He certainly gave his best effort to savor them, log them and tuck them safely into his memory. Mac was never one to let her guard down around anyone, even him, but it was in moments like this in which he caught a glimpse of her utterly content. He remained quiet, soaking in her every feature. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Exotic, really.

But it wasn't just her looks that were captivating. It was her spirit, her very heart, that made the woman all the more beautiful. It was the way she asked, with genuine interest, how someone's day was going. It was the way she studiously checked on her friends when they were going through difficult times. It was the way she seemed to remember everyone's birthday, including the soft-spoken custodian. It was the way she put on a tough façade so that nobody would see how vulnerable she really was. And it was the way she picked herself up time and time again when life did its best to snuff out the light burning so brightly within her. It was all of these things that made Sarah Mackenzie truly and deeply beautiful to him.

"Good morning Commander! Colonel!" Bud's voice rang out cheerily behind him, disrupting the tranquil moment.

His moment as a silent voyeur was over.

_'Dammit Bud! Always the worst timing!'_

Harm shook his head at the younger lawyer's enthusiasm. How anyone could be cheerful so early in the morning (except on Fridays, of course!), was utterly lost on him. But in typical fashion, Bud never failed to deliver a daily dose of sunshine with his bubbly personality and endearing innocence.

"Good morning, Lieutenant!" Mac returned his greeting with a bright smile. "Would you like a cup?" She offered up the coffee pot.

Bud shifted his gaze to Harm, who merely shrugged with indifference. He looked at the carafe with careful regard, trying to choose his next words wisely. "Um, did you make that, ma'am?"

"Uh huh, just got finished. I've had the first cup. You want some?" Amusement danced in her eyes, but she managed to keep the mischievous smile off her face. If the scuttlebutt in the office concerning her java making skills was true, he was most certainly not a fan of her coffee.

_'Typical Squid. They just can't take it'_.

She watched him squirm uncomfortably as his eyes shifted nervously between her and the pot. She could almost swear a fine bead of sweat popped up on his upper lip! In typical Roberts' fashion, he tried hard to be diplomatic.

"Uh…um….no offense ma'am, but…I'd have to put at least three sugars in that to make it drinkable. And Harriet just put me on a strict diet". He gestured towards his midsection and grimaced. "Too many sweets".

She gave Bud her best courtroom interrogative look. "My coffee isn't that bad, is it Lieutenant?" It was fun to watch him sweat. Besides, it would serve him right for taking the last chocolate éclair from the donut box last week after she had laid claim to it. They weren't just any chocolate eclairs. They were eclairs from _the best damn donut place in town_. The one where the line formed at 0600. It was long even before the shop opened and they usually sold out within fifteen minutes. Oh yes, it was payback time indeed.

Bud looked like a deer caught in headlights. If there was anything he dreaded, it was being pinned down by his superiors, especially when it was Mac. She could be intimidating in every sense of the word.

Harm chuckled, busting up the tension in the room. "Bud, you're being far too generous. There's no amount of sugar that could make _that_-*he jerked his head towards the pot in Mac's hand*- fit to drink... Hell, OSHA would log it as a toxic chemical".

Bud coughed in an attempt to cover his laugh.

Mac pinned them both with a look of exasperation, rolling her eyes for good measure.

"You know, if the Navy ever experiences a shortage of jet-fuel, they could simply use your coffee as a viable substitute," Harm continued, unable to resist teasing her. "I'm sure the staff here would have no objection to them taking it. In fact, I'm certain everyone would be very grateful".

She picked up a pack of sugar from the basket on the counter and chunked it at him, hitting him squarely on the cheek.

"Hey! I'm just being honest. You could get the Nobel Peace Prize or something". He held up his hands in mock self-defense. "JAG Lawyer Creates Fuel Alternative For The Navy Using Coffee Unfit to Drink," he quoted in his best news anchor voice, earning him a playful punch in the shoulder.

Bud, not wanting to be involved in their tete-a-tete, excused himself from the conversation. "Pardon me ma'am, sir, but I have to get ready for a deposition". He gave them an apologetic smile and hastily retreated from the room before he could bear witness to a crime.

Casting Harm a dubious once-over, she moved towards the exit, pausing briefly at the doorway. "Well, squid, if you can't handle my coffee, you sure can't handle anything else of mine".

_'Wait, WHAT!? You did NOT just go there, Mackenzie!'_

The words were out, scattering into the comfortable expanse ebbing between them. Too late to stuff them back in. Mac, witnessing an uncharacteristic moment where the infamous pilot-turned-lawyer was speechless, chose to leave him alone to sort out her comment. She sauntered out of the breakroom, leaving a open-mouthed Harm struggling to catch up. She couldn't keep a satisfied smile from appearing. The ease in which the words came tumbling out was not what surprised her the most; rather, it was the way her heart did somersaults in her chest as a look of shock...and something else...passed across his face…..

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_END FLASHBACK_

The scraping of a chair against tiled flooring startled her to the present. Jake had settled himself beside her, removing a thick stack of paperwork from his briefcase. At that moment, a knock was heard at the door. "Come in," he replied, sorting through some papers in the stack. Two men walked in. "Mac, I'd like you to meet Captain Mike Brenham and General Brian Stevens. They will be assisting in finalizing Colonel O'Hara's discharge paperwork".

Mac shook hands as introductions were made. Captain Brenham, the taller of the two, reminded her a little of Harm, with his short brown hair and strikingly blue-grey eyes. Stevens held a short stature, and bits of gray creeped into the edges of his sandy blonde hair. "Nice to meet you both. I hope we can work thru this quickly. I'm very anxious to get him home. I'm sure you understand".

Captain Brenham spoke. "Yes ma'am. We'll work thru this as quickly as possible. If you're ready, we'll begin". He looked at a piece of paper that Jake gave him, reviewing it before applying his signature and passing it to Stevens.

Mac nodded in agreement, and shortly, the four officers were buried in paperwork.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1215

Leavenworth Prison

Meeting Room #1

Kansas

"I guess that's it, Colonel. All I need is your signature. He'll be ready for discharge tomorrow," General Stevens stated, passing the last piece of paper over for Mac's signature.

"I'll be glad when I can see him".

She applied her signature flourish. Her internal clock told her it was past 1200, and she had been signing what seemed like a hundred forms. She was anxious to finish.

General Stevens shook her hand as he departed. "I wish you the best, Colonel".

Mac stood to return the handshakes. "Thank you". When the officers had left, she turned to Jake. "May I see him now?"

He nodded, placing the last of the paperwork in his briefcase before latching it. "Of course. The infirmary is just down the hall from here". He exited the room with Mac following close behind. "Your uncle is fortunate to have you. Most of our inmates don't have any family".

"I'm the one who is fortunate, Chaplain. He cared about me when everyone else deserted me."

Jake abruptly turned to the right and waited for Mac to catch up. "I'm sorry he wasn't discharged today. I know you want to get him settled in at home as soon as possible". They traveled down a short corridor before he stopped at the entrance to the infirmary wing. "I must warn you, though, he's weak and tires easily".

Mac followed him into the outer room and glanced around. Cabinets lined one side of the room with laminate countertops resting underneath. Several examination tables sat neatly in a row, separated by privacy curtains. Numerous medicine bottles sat locked behind the cabinet bars and chairs were placed on the other side of the room. Aside from a few generic medical posters plastered on the walls, the room was rather bland.

"Let me see if he's dressed. Just one minute, please," Jake requested, then disappeared into an adjacent room. Mac took the opportunity to school her features. She couldn't let her uncle see her upset. She had to be strong for the both of them, just as he'd been for her all those years earlier at Red Rock Mesa.

A few seconds later he reappeared, waving her access. "You can go in. The nurse will stop by shortly to discuss his services. Let me know if you need anything". He gave her an apologetic smile before disappearing.

Mac swallowed hard. The lump had returned in her throat, forcing her to shove down the sudden sob. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to her uncle's room. It was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of the industrial style clock on the wall opposite his bed. Her movement caught his attention and he looked up.

She was….

_Stunned. _

This was not the Uncle Matt she knew or remembered.

He looked so different than when she had seen him last, which had only been two months prior. The weight loss was evident in the way his cheeks were sunken and the hospital gown swallowed him.

She greeted him with a sense of forced cheer, trying to hide her initial shock at the sight of him. "Hey Uncle Matt!"

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Sarah," Matt O'Hara greeted, opening his arms up for a hug. She crossed the room in two steps, quickly enveloping him in a gentle but fierce embrace. He was so thin that Mac could feel his shoulder blades through the flimsy hospital gown. After a few moments, she pulled away to peer into his face.

"How are you feeling, Uncle Matt?" she asked. "I came as soon as I could".

Colonel O'Hara shrugged. "I'm tired, but aside from that, I feel okay". Mac looked closely at her uncle, trying to decide if he was being honest. Sensing this, he rolled his eyes in jest. "Yes, Sarah, I'm telling YOU the truth". He patted the space beside him, inviting her to sit down. It was silent for a moment as both studied on what to say next. "I presume they have told you everything about my condition, hmmm?".

She took his hands, noting their size. His hands, which had been strong enough to lift a 200-pound beam, yet gentle enough to wipe away her tears, were a fraction of the size they once were. She bit her lip. "They did". She turned her attention back to his face, determination set in her eyes. Cancer would take him away from her, but she would not let it take his dignity. "I want you to come home to live with me." She steeled herself for his argument; Matthew was never one to accept help from anyone.

_'Much like you, Mackenzie ' _

He would die at home, with her, in peace. Surrounded by nothing but love.

Matt emphatically shook his head. "Baby duck, I know you do, but I refuse to be a burden," declined, using his term of endearment for her. "You've got so much going on in your life right now. You've got your job, your friends, Chloe, and-"

"And nothing! You're not a burden, Uncle Matt! I never want to hear you say that!" Mac cut him off forcefully. "You've ALWAYS been here for me when I've needed you the most. You saved me from myself. If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be the miserable wretch today that I was then. Let me be there for you. Please. It's what I want to do". She took her uncle's face in her hands. Remember the Corps' rule that we never leave a fellow Marine behind? I'm not about to break that rule; not today, not tomorrow, not ever, especially when it comes to you."

The intensity in her eyes never wavered, and Matthew could see that this was an argument he was not going to win. He was quiet for a moment as he considered her offer. His niece was all he had left. To be honest, he couldn't bear another moment in Leavenworth. He nodded in acquiescence. "I know I can't change your mind, especially when you get that look".

Mac quirked her lips in a half smile when she realized she'd won. "Good. You're learning fast. I guess you can teach an old dog something".

At that moment, Jake knocked on the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but our hospice nurse is here to set your service plan set up". He introduced a nurse dressed in brightly colored scrubs. "This is Holly McCravy with Hospice of the Heart. If you three need anything, I'll be working in my office. It's at the end of the hallway". He bid goodbye, shutting the door behind him.

"Good morning Colonel O'Hara, and Colonel… "Holly looked at Mac for clarification as she shook their hands.

"Sarah Mackenzie, but everyone calls me Mac," she provided as Holly pulled a chair over to Matt's beside.

"Mac? Very well, then. Nice to meet both of you. This shouldn't take too long". She situated herself in the chair, removing his medical chart and some pamphlets from her bag. "Now, we typically start off with visits twice a week, for around two hours a day." She glanced at the pair before continuing. "But, as the disease progresses, we will need to increase that frequency".

Mac looked at Uncle Matt for acknowledgement. He simply nodded and lovingly squeezed her hand. He understood the words unspoken: hospice services made his diagnosis a reality; real and undeniable. "I'd like for him to be as comfortable as possible but still be with it enough to participate in what's going on around him." She hated talking for her uncle as though he were a child, but she could tell in his body language he was tiring quickly.

Sensing her discomfort, Matthew interjected his thoughts. "Sarah, you're my advocate. What you want is what I want. I trust your judgement; you must know that".

Mac sighed, tightening her hold on his hand. "I don't want you to feel as though I'm talking for you. I want _you_ to be satisfied with what you are getting".

"And _I AM_. As long as I get to spend my final days at home with you, that's all that matters. You are going to need the extra help, especially when I can no longer do the simple things, like bathe myself". He knew she didn't want to hear it, but it needed to be said. He couldn't, wouldn't let her shoulder his caregiving needs by herself. He knew Sarah would not ask for help. And there were some things that his niece just did not need to see nor bear witness to.

After some time spent discussing his care plan, Mac seemed satisfied with the level of services and that his needs would be adequately met. The nurse did a final review with them before she returned the files to her bag. "So, that wraps it up. We'll come three times a week for two hours each day until we notice a significant decline. At that point, we will increase the visits to five and three. Do you have any objections to that?"

Mac looked at Matthew, to which he nodded and replied, rather weakly. "Fine by me, Sarah".

Concern immediately cast a shadow across her face. She felt his forehead. It was cold and clammy. "Are you feeling okay?".

"I've got a pretty bad headache right now," he admitted, albeit reluctantly. It frustrated him that he could not keep his strength up. Deep down, he felt the timeframe he'd been given was optimistic, at best. If he closed his eyes long enough, he could feel Death's icy cold fingers beginning to creep into the darkest recesses of his mind. He knew it would not be long before he would be joining Death for his journey home.

Mac rubbed his head gently, wishing more than anything that she could take his pain away and make it hers. It broke her heart to see him in pain, knowing she could do nothing to fix it.

At that moment, Jake poked his head around the corner to check on them.

"We were just wrapping up. Colonel O'Hara is safe to discharge tomorrow or the following day," Holly stated, handing the last form to Mac for her signature.

As Mac signed the form, she noticed Matthew was desperately trying to stay awake. "Uncle Matt, you're awfully tired. Why don't you rest? I'm not leaving, at least until visiting hours end".

Matthew scrutinized her while contemplating the suggestion. He knew his niece well. For certain, she was a pro at deflecting her own struggles, especially if it would raise concern or worry in others. He had his suspicions: she was hoping he would go to sleep so he wouldn't see her _own_ fatigue. "What about you? I know you caught the red-eye flight and only arrived this morning. You've got to be exhausted".

Giving him a soft smile, she squeezed his hand gently in an attempt to reassure him. "I'm fine, Uncle Matt, really. There's no place I'd rather be than with you".

Anyone else would have missed the downward shift of her eyes, an indicator she was not being truthful. But not him. Against his better judgement, he conceded, surrendering to the fatigue. He really was too tired to argue.

He was asleep in a matter of seconds.

Holly took a careful look at Mac, the telltale signs of caregiver stress already beginning to cover her face. After reading his chart, she realized that Mac was the only family left. And based on the lack of family support and snippets of conversations, the Colonel was all his niece had. Twenty years in the hospice industry had taught Holly a lot, but one thing was for sure; while the death of a patient was hard on the family, it was aftermath that was the worst. Caregivers, more often than not, experienced a severe illness as their bodies finally broke down following the death of their loved one. If the scene that just unfolded was an indicator, she knew exactly where Mac was headed. With a sympathetic smile, she slung her bag over her shoulder and shook hands with her.

"Don't forget to take care of yourself. You can't afford to get sick, too. And it's ok to ask for help. That's what we are here for. Not just for the patient, but for the caregiver, too". She jerked her head in Matthew's direction. "Give us a call when you get home. Our nurse will come out to do the initial visit".

"Thanks again for everything...we appreciate it," Mac said with watery smile as she stood, smoothing the blankets over her uncle. Holly exited, the door closing with a sense of finality, and Mac was left alone once more with her thoughts. She stared out the window for quite some time, watching the rain make haphazard patterns on the glass as it rushed on its journey downward. It beat softly against the pane, and it seemed for a moment that the world was crying with her. But unlike the storm, which would end and bring with it the sun, there was no happy ending for her.

No sunny day ahead.

Only darkness.

Her thoughts wandered to Harm. She longed for him to be there with her, giving her the comfort that nobody else could provide. Instinctively, she pulled her phone from her pocket, her thumb hovering over his number.

_'He's probably busy. He doesn't have time to talk to you right now. Suck it up and keep moving, Mackenzie'. _

She sighed in resignation, returning her phone to her pocket. It would be so easy to throw herself a pity party, but she couldn't afford to. Her uncle needed her. And she'd made a vow to be by his side, step for step, no matter how long or short the journey would be.

A soft snore from Matthew interrupted her thoughts. She returned to his bedside, sandwiching his hand between her own. Mac tried to push away the thoughts that had clouded her mind since the moment she'd been told of his illness. The news had been hard to process, and now, in his presence, the words hung like an ominous black cloud. The lines in his face seemed to be etched far deeper than she ever remembered. Matt had always looked younger than his age, but since her last visit, he seemed to have aged twenty years overnight. Despite the three months given, Mac had a terrible suspicion that cancer would take him much sooner. Stroking his hand, she let out a tearful sigh and kissed his knuckles.

"I love you, Uncle Matt. So much".

She put her head against his arm and finally succumbed to her tears.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER FOUR::


	6. Chapter 5

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Five

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed August 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful characters of JAG do not belong to me. If they did, Harm and Mac would have been banging like a screen door in a hurricane the first season she was introduced.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1255

USS Patrick Henry

Flight Deck

Somewhere in the Atlantic

Harm's gaze settled over the water, watching the waves of the ship's wake smash against each other. The sun sat high over the horizon, its rays deflecting off the constantly shifting surface below. He inhaled deeply, the smell of jet fuel tingling his nostrils. The flight deck was a place he could always count on to ground his mind, especially when his thoughts jumped all over the place.

Much as they did now.

His thoughts centered upon Mac. His mind and heart were at war; his mind trying to convince him he was overreacting, his heart telling him something was most definitely wrong.

Since he'd first laid eyes on her in the White House Rose Garden, there had been an instant connection. It pierced him to his very core. While it had taken time to process the initial shock of her uncanny, not to mention haunting, resemblance of his deceased former girlfriend, he could never recall having such a visceral encounter with anyone.

It was like _she knew him_ in every sense of the word; yet they had only just met.

For one moment in time, his world screeched to a halt. Sarah's presence upending every preconceived notion his mind concocted after AJ informed him his new partner was a Marine.

_'Well, he did fail to mention that the Marine was a "she" and not a "he"'_.

Still, even if AJ had told him this one important fact, Harm doubted seriously he could have been prepared for the shock that came. It had nothing to do with Diane and _everything _to do with the way she sneaked into his world, quiet and unassuming.

Just as in everything else she did.

"Penny for your thoughts." Sturgis' voice boomed out from behind, startling Harm. He flashed Harm an apologetic smile. "Sorry man, I thought you heard the hatch open".

Harm shook his head and chuckled, moving aside to make room for him. "I don't think they would go for much. I hear the bargaining rate on this ship is pretty low".

Sturgis studied him carefully. While the interviews had gone seamlessly and Harm, as always, was on top of his game, Sturgis had been friends with him long enough to know when he was compensating. It was evident in the way he held himself, the way his eyes went distant as though he was searching for something he could not find; the worried expression that clouded his face when he thought nobody was watching. Without a doubt, he knew where his mind had wandered.

"Have you talked to the Admiral yet?" he asked, referring to their conversation at breakfast.

He let out a deep breath, unconsciously gripping the rail. "No, not yet". He hesitated, trailing off. "I'm not…."

Seeming to read his mind, Sturgis finished his sentence. "Not sure what to ask, huh?"

Harm nodded once, keeping his gaze on the water. "Yeah"

From the side, Sturgis could see the firm set of his jaw, a telltale sign he was worried. "Well, when we check in with the Admiral, we'll ask what the news is back at JAG. But, that's AFTER we grab something to eat. We missed lunch. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry".

There.

The pressure was off Harm and safely centered on the situation at hand. If there was news to report, Sturgis was confident AJ would share it. And grabbing a bite to eat would give Harm a chance to calm his nerves. Hopefully.

Harm cast a sideways glance at his friend, noting the hidden concern within his features. If Sturgis was aware of his deeper feelings for Mac, he did not let on. For that, Harm was grateful. He just couldn't let that part of his heart out. Not right now. He was too vulnerable. He flashed a brief, but thankful smile. "Sounds good, let's go". Giving one last look over the horizon, he followed his friend inside.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1415

JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden's Office

Falls Church, VA.

AJ stared at the paper in his hand, but he couldn't keep his mind off Mac. Aside from being his Chief of Staff, and one of his best lawyers, she dealt with Harm like none of his previous partners. He chuckled as he remembered the way Harm used to be before Mac arrived. He'd been one cocky, arrogant Navy pilot-turned lawyer who had his head shoved rather tightly up his six. Harm used to be able to get his way with any woman by employing his infamous grin and charm, but when it came to Mac, he was in for one hell of a surprise. Not only was Mac immune to his smiles, but she was always one step ahead of his tactics in the courtroom, tactics that oftentimes bordered flat out deceit. It hadn't taken long for Mac to whip Rabb into shape. In AJ's opinion, it was long overdue! Each time she reeled him in from his latest hairbrained scheme, AJ thanked himself profusely for his decision to recruit her to JAG.

He was damn proud of how far she'd come since her first case. In his opinion, she was one of the strongest people he'd met in his thirty-five years of military service. As a former Navy Seal, he'd met a lot people along his journey. She'd come from a terrible childhood, battled a vicious alcohol addiction, and joined the Marine Corps. He viewed her through the proud eyes of a father, and considered her his own flesh and blood.

The chiming of the clock interrupted his thoughts.

He was expecting a call from Harm at 1400.

Late. As usual.

That was another benefit of having Mac around. She kept Harm on time with their partnership running like a well-oiled cog. While the man was undeniably gifted in the courtroom and the air, he also had a gift for being chronically late. He turned his attention back to the files on his desk before deciding to give Mac a call.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1415

Fort Leavenworth Correctional Facility

Infirmary Ward

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

A sudden vibration in her pocket nudge Mac from her half-asleep state. She looked at the caller ID.

It was AJ.

Careful not to disturb Matthew, she quietly exited the room. "Hello?"

"Mac, it's AJ. How are you?"

She propped herself against the railing in the hallway. Her head was absolutely killing her. She blew out a breath. "I'm okay, sir".

AJ could hear the fatigue in her voice but let it go for the time being. "That's good. I don't want you wearing yourself out".

"Don't worry sir, I'm a Marine. I can handle it". She said it more to convince herself than him. She changed topics. "How are things back at HQ with all the cases".

AJ couldn't help but shake his head and roll his eyes.

_'Typical Mac!'_

"We're fine, Colonel. I'm an Admiral, remember? I can handle it".

A grin tugged at Mac's face. "Touché, sir. Touché". She continued. "The paperwork is done. Unfortunately, he won't be discharged until sometime tomorrow".

"I thought as much, I'm sure that process is a lengthy one. How is he?"

Mac glanced over her shoulder. "He's asleep right now. It didn't take long for him to wear out after we went over the paperwork with hospice. It really worries me. They gave three months, but….I don't think…."

She couldn't finish the sentence; it hurt too much, took too much effort. And it somehow made it all the more….real.

AJ understood the unspoken words where they were meant to fit among the spoken. "That's to be expected Mac. But, remember, if you're constantly worrying, you won't be able to look after him. Or yourself".

Mac chewed her lip. "I know sir, but…sometimes, it's just so hard to sit back and take it, you know?" Hard didn't even _begin_ to describe how she felt, but at the moment she was too exhausted to eloquently express her feelings.

"Focus on what you can handle now. Let go of what you can't. I find this helps when I'm faced with a tough situation" AJ advised.

_'God, Harm, you need to wrap that case up and get home. Mac needs you!'_

Mac absent mindedly nodded at a passing orderly. "Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind".

"I know you've got a lot ahead of you, so I won't keep you. Try to get some rest and keep me updated on his condition. Let me know when you expect to fly back."

"Yes sir, I will". She hit the end button and quickly returned to her uncle's bedside. She didn't want to spend a minute away from him, especially with the knowledge that the sun was quickly setting on his life.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1430

JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden's office

Falls Church, VA

"Admiral, Commander Rabb and Commander Turner are on line one, sir," Tiner announced.

Glancing at his watch, AJ realized Harm was thirty minutes passed his scheduled check-in time.

_'A half-hour late, that's a new record. Hell, the man would be late to his own funeral!_'

"Put him through Tiner".

Harm's voice was fuzzy through the poor connection. "Good afternoon, Admiral".

AJ shuffled through the stack of files on his desk and grasped the nearest legal pad. "Same to you Rabb, Turner. I'm hoping you have good news."

"Well, we're having a hard ime getting anything from our client. It may take a few days more than initially thought". He read from his notepad, cringing with anticipation at the Admiral's response. Sturgis stood nearby, carefully watching Harm's face.

AJ rubbed his head in frustration while reaching for the bottle of aspirin he kept in his desk drawer. He groaned inwardly. "What seems to be the problem?"

Harm hesitated. The Admiral wasn't the only one who wanted to wrap up this investigation ASAP. He had an extensive caseload to get back to.

_'And Mac….'_

He shoved the annoying voice away. "Commander West states he has no recollection of what happened just prior to losing control over the aircraft, sir. He's reluctant to talk about it. We haven't been able to get much out of him. We're still waiting on results from the recorder box they pulled".

AJ fought the desire to beat his head against the desk until he entered oblivion. This was the last thing he wanted to hear. "Commander, I know if anyone can get information out of a turnip...it's you. I want the damn SecNav off my back".

"I promise you sir, we will get this wrapped up as soon as we can".

"See that you do, Commander".

He looked at Sturgis briefly before continuing. "Um sir, I do have one question". He twisted the phone cord nervously in his hands.

"That depends." AJ was reluctant; he had a feeling where this conversation was headed. "What is it?"

"I uh…wanted to know how the Colonel was doing. I mean, handling my cases. I just didn't want her to um…you know…get overloaded," Harm stammered, trying to maintain as professional a demeanor as possible, especially with Sturgis' eyes boring into him.

_'Damn Rabb, that was weak!'._

AJ sighed inwardly, realizing Mac had yet to disclose Colonel O'Hara's condition. On one hand, he wanted to tell Harm the truth so Mac would receive the support she so desperately needed, but on the other he wanted to respect her wishes.

"Sir, you there?" He twisted the cord again.

AJ cleared his throat. He really hated being the man in the middle! But Mac needed some time to get herself together. "Commander, I handed her cases to Singer and Roberts. The Colonel's expertise was required on another assignment".

'Huh?'

It was not like the Admiral to have three of his senior officers away on assignment at the same time, especially with a high-volume caseload and not enough junior staff to handle them. A sense of dread pooled in his stomach. There was something not quite right about the tone of AJ's voice.

He gave another twist of the cord. "What assignment, sir? Can I speak with her?"

The man was persistent, he had to give him that. AJ dodged the question. "She's not available right now, Commander. When she calls to check in, I'll tell her you called". He didn't exactly tell the truth, but he didn't lie…exactly.

Aware there was more to Mac's 'assignment', but unwilling to push the envelope, Harm chose to let it go. He trusted the Admiral explicitly, but something was off, of that he was certain. He tightened his hold on the now-tangled cord. "Sir, would you get a message to her to call me as soon as she is available? It's kind of…. It's important, sir".

AJ knew Harm sensed he wasn't being truthful, but to his credit, he didn't press.

_'This is when being a 2-star Admiral really pays off'. _

A droll grin crossed his face. "I will make sure she gets the message, Commander. Keep on that case and wrap it up before I become tomorrow morning's toast".

The finality was in AJ's voice. "Yes sir".

The call was disconnected. He chewed his lip, trying to decipher the Admiral's cryptic message.

_'There is no reason to panic. She's away on assignment. No need to make a big deal of it'_.

He looked at his fingers, which were now imprinted with the outline of the phone cord.

"So, what was said?" Sturgis inquired. Judging by the expressions that crossed Harm's face during the call, and the way he clutched the cord like it was his lifeline to her; he could only surmise whatever was, or wasn't shared, did little to alleviate his concern.

Harm sighed with frustration. He tossed the notebook on the galley table. "Said Mac was pulled off for another assignment, but wouldn't say what it was. Gave her cases to Roberts and Singer. When I asked if I could speak to her, he said she wasn't available".

Sturgis' eyebrows shot up in surprise at this. "Really? That must be one hell of an investigation he's put her on. He's down three lawyers now; there's no way they can manage with that many cases." While he had not worked for Admiral Chegwidden very long, he learned early on that the Navy Seal did not like to be short on manpower, especially when it came to his senior officers.

Harm gave Sturgis an apprehensive look. "I'm pretty sure those two are hating our guts right about now".

Sturgis laughed, imagining Singer's reaction to being assigned someone else's caseload. "Singer yes, Roberts no. He is always eager to take on extra cases. Besides, he needs the practice. He's turning out to be one hell of a lawyer".

"I completely agree with you there". Harm glanced at his watch. 1330. He had been late in calling the Admiral, but surprisingly, AJ didn't rake him over the coals. He couldn't believe it.

_'Whatever is going on at the office must really have him preoccupied. _He never lets me off that easily!".

Sturgis grabbed the notebook and thumped it against Harm's chest. "Let's get back to our rooms and go over our notes. We've got a lot of ground to cover".

The two lawyers exited the galley, the receiver cord still bunched up from where it had been unceremoniously twisted during the short phone call.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0630

Memories Bed and Breakfast

Room 230

Fredonia, Kansas

Daylight was emerging over the horizon, and as such, soft rays of sunlight seeped thru the gauzy curtains. But there was no need for the sun to wake her up; her internal clock had beat it to the punch. The moment her eyes popped open, her mind began to churn out the many tasks to be done.

The day was going to be bittersweet.

It was the day her uncle was being released to go home. In a cruel trade with fate, he would only exchange his physical home for his spiritual one in just a few weeks' time. She was more than ready to return to Virginia with her uncle.

She rubbed her gritty, tired eyes with her palms to clear the cobwebs of sleep. They burned like coals from a dwindling campfire. It had taken some time, longer than usual, for her to escape the familiar choking hand of insomnia. Stretching, Mac noted a "nagging" stiffness, a gentle reminder that either age had begun to rear its ugly head or she had unknowingly slept on a bed of rocks. She dragged her aching body into the bathroom, grimacing as the harsh lights from the vanity glared down upon her. Today was not going to be an easy day for either of them, but Mac had made a promise she would not allow herself to succumb to pity. She turned on the- shower head and undressed, praying to have the strength to keep it together.

Her thoughts, as they so often did, wandered to Harm. She wondered how the investigation was going, if he'd made any headway.

_'At least he's on a carrier. It's where he's always the happiest'. _

The hot water cascaded over her tired body, soothing the tense muscles.

'_It's not at JAG'. _

With a pang of agony, she was reminded of a day, in the not so distant past, when he had walked into her apartment and proceeded to upend her life with his decision to return to flying. In retrospect, she should have, _could have_ been more supportive, but she felt sucker-punched. Her heart and mind immediately had gone to war; one trying to convince her his departure had everything to do with finishing "unfinished business" and nothing to do with leaving her. And the other part, that wretched part that breathed life into old insecurities, convinced her she was NOT good enough to make him want to stay. It had taken some time to resolve the two, and while she had come to mostly peaceful terms with it, there still remained a part that questioned her inherent worth.

Her internal clock reminded her she had less than thirty minutes to get dressed and be at Leavenworth. No matter what, she would not, _could not_ show how much his illness was affecting her. There would be time enough for tears later. Shutting off the shower, she leaned her forehead against the warm tile, summoning up the strength to face the day.

_'Lord please give me the strength I need to get through this'._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1130

Fort Leavenworth Correctional Facility

Leavenworth, Kansas

Mac restlessly shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Her patience was waning. He had one more physical to be done, and his discharge paperwork finalized. She was ready to get home. The earliest available flight to Dulles was not until the next morning and she had been lucky to get that. She decided to give the Admiral a call once they returned to the B&B. Just as she approached the nurse's station to inquire how much longer it would be, the door to the ward swung open. A medical technician pushed Matthew's wheelchair through the doorway. Chaplain Gaines followed behind.

Blowing out a breath, Mac picked up the small box that contained his personal belongings. It pained her to know that for a man who had lived life so large and passionately, his entire life's possessions were reduced to nothing more than what filled a flimsy cardboard box. She pinned it tightly against her chest with one hand while the other reached out to retrieve the yellow medical records folder from the technician.

"You ready to go, Uncle Matt?".

Matt jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Well, I don't know about you, but I sure as hell am! This ain't the friendliest place on earth and I've been given my marching orders. I say we blow this popsicle stand before they change their minds!"

She couldn't help but grin at his jovial attitude. She leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "I was ready to take you home yesterday! Let's get out of here. There's a small café just down the road. I've heard it's good. How about we get you some lunch before we head back to the B&B?

"Sounds good to me!" He reached for the box in her arms and settled it in his lap. "Let me hold this. My arms aren't the strongest today. You mind giving me a push?"

Mac dropped the yellow folder in the box. "Of course not. Let's get you home." She pushed him towards the exit. At the car, Gaines shook Matt's hand before delivering a crisp salute.

"God be with you, sir. It has been an honor to be a part of your life. I treasure our friendship".

Matthew returned the salute. "Thank you for your kindness, Chaplain. You've been a wonderful friend to me, and for that, I am very appreciative".

Gaines turned to Mac, where she stood with a supportive arm around her uncle. "I wish you much peace and consolation in the days to come". He pulled a card from his wallet. "Here's my information. I'm available any day, any time."

Mac accepted the card with a sting of tears. "You have been so kind to my uncle. I will never forget that". She shook his hand. "God be with you, too". She assisted Matthew into the back seat before joining him. As the car pulled away from the prison, she understood while Matt was free from life as an inmate, he was still a prisoner of Death.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER FIVE::


	7. Chapter 6

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Six

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall/Winter 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1230

Officer Quarters

USS Patrick Henry

Somewhere in the Atlantic

Harm checked his watch as he clicked the 'submit' button. If his suspicions were correct, it was possible the critical breaking point for the case had been found. And not a moment to spare. All he could do was wait for the Admiral's response.

Receiving confirmation, the report successfully transmitted, he allowed his mind to wander. His eyes settled on the framed picture of the two of them with their godson, AJ Roberts. Aside from the photo taken at a NATO ball, this was his favorite.

It had been a beautiful Saturday afternoon the day it was taken: sunny and warm, with a slight breeze keeping the temperature just right. They had volunteered to keep little AJ so his parents could car shop without the added distraction of toting a toddler. Later, the four adults arranged to meet up at a local park.

The photo had been a candid one, snapped by Harriet in the spur of the moment.

At the sight of his godparents, the little boy had squirmed out of Bud's arms, to run at a tipsy gait towards the two. Mac, having been a stride ahead of Harm, was the first to reach him. She eagerly hoisted him high in the air, his squeals of delight echoing the joy that lit up her face. Harm was captured looking over her shoulder with a broad grin on his handsome face, his hands outstretched in a mock attempt to tickle the boy. To any passerby, the three were the epitome of a typical family; a loving husband and wife enjoying the day with their adorable son. Harriet had felt the photo opportunity was too precious to pass up. And so with a discrete, but quick snap of the camera, the moment was preserved for eternity. The two had been completely unaware of the camera; Mac caught up in laughing at her godson, Harm enamored with watching both. They were pleasantly surprised the following week when both found a framed copy on their desks with a cheerful note of thanks from Harriet.

He lost count as to the number of times he had stared at the photo. His eyes were drawn to her, like a moth to a flame; completely mesmerized by everything about her. The quality of the photo was magnificent, having captured the essence of her beauty like no other. The sun valiantly lit up the subtle tones of red in her silky, mahogany brown hair, but it paled in comparison to the expression of utter joy on her face.

The image of two of the most precious people in his world filled Harm's heart with a sense of longing. And he could no longer deny what he wanted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_::FLASHBACK::_

"Haaaarm! If you don't stop feeding that child chocolate ice-cream, he's going to be so wired he won't sleep for weeks! And you're getting it all over his clothes. Harriet's gonna have a fit!" Mac admonished, using one hand to wipe AJ's chocolate-smeared mouth while the other worked to keep her own frozen treat away from their godson's grubby little hands. The motion proved to be a vain attempt because the antsy toddler began to protest at being restrained in his uncle's arms. With a sigh of mock frustration, she wadded up the dirty wet wipes and tossed them in the plastic sack. "I don't know why I keep wiping his mouth, you just keep shoving it in his face". She motioned towards the dark stains already forming on the navy shortsleeved bodysuit peeking out from under striped shortalls.

Harm's face took on an expression of feigned confusion as he flipped AJ over in his arms, tickling the boy's ribcage which only resulted in shrieks of laughter. "Lighten up, will ya, Mac? Just because his aunt is a tough old jarhead doesn't mean he has to be squared away like the barracks at Camp Pendleton".

She shot him her notoriously scathing look as she unwrapped her ice-cream sandwich, biting into it with gusto. A wad of filling oozed out the side, plopping onto their picnic blanket. She glanced at the splotch before shrugging with indifference. Oh well, what was the use?

He tickled AJ again, eliciting another round of shrieks and giggles. "Besides, it's fun to get a little dirty now and then, don't you think?". The comment was innocent given their setting, but not so innocent regarding the feelings that simmered beneath the surface. Had an onlooker overheard, nothing would have been considered out of the ordinary. But then again, nothing ever was ordinary between these two. Two lawyers, who were normally so gifted when it came to using words for their clients, just couldn't seem to get it right when it came to vocalizing their feelings _for each other_.

Mac nearly choked on her sandwich. She could have sworn the temperature had suddenly increased at least ten degrees. The way he was looking at her nearly took her breath away; the intensity of his gaze bored straight through her very soul. A gust of wind suddenly came thru, blowing several strands of her hair to stick against a spot of chocolate left unbeknownst on her lips.

As of its own accord, his hand reached out to free the captive strands, his fingers lingering longer than what was probably necessary. The moment his hand touched her lips, a jolt of electricity shot through him, setting him ablaze in an all-consuming inferno. He knew she felt it too, if the expression on her face was any indicator.

For Mac, his touch sent a rush of sublime warmth throughout every vein, nook, and cranny in her body. She watched him with her wide, full eyes, unable to tear herself away from his heated gaze. Her mind scuttled back to the day she had returned from burying her father.

She had sat in the Admiral's office as she talked to Harm about the unexpected events that unfolded. The arrangement of flowers he'd sent to the funeral home were beautiful. She had thanked him for this and it was then that his expression seemed to change imperceptibly, yet noticeable all the same. The room seemed to get darker, the outside world pulled away like the retreating warmth from a winter sunset. Then, he had looked at her the same way he was looking at her now, as though he was seeing her in a way he had not seen before. She could swear there was something else hiding in his gaze.

Was it love?

Was it an indication he wanted more than friendship?

She searched his eyes for an answer to her unvoiced questions, but was unable to fully discern what he was thinking; what he was feeling.

_'Hold up Mackenzie! Quit imagining things. You're just 'the girl next door' in his eyes. Nothing more!' _

That old stubborn part that refused to allow her to believe that she had any right to even the smallest slice of happiness. She was just his partner. Friend.

Yep, Just good ol' Mac.

Just one of people he knew he could count on to be there for him when everyone else had left. The one he could count on to protect his heart and secrets at all costs, even if it meant protecting him from herself.

_'You know better than that! Stop sulking and tell the man how you feel!' _

AJ looked between the two with a confused look on his tiny face, thoroughly displeased he no longer held his godfather's attention. Frowning, he reached over Harm's outstretched legs, pulling up a fistful of dandelions and grass to sprinkle on his shorts.

The motion shook Harm from the intensity of the moment. He swallowed hard, wrenching his eyes from hers and turning back to his godson. Thankful for the interruption, he regained control of his run-away emotions. "Ohhh, this means war buddy". He picked the stems from where they lay scattered on his shorts, playfully shoving them down the front of the boy's collar.

AJ giggled, his face scrunching as the grass tickled his skin. "Unca 'arm! Tickuws!"

She felt the rush of blood flood her cheeks, cursing fate for its ill-timing while simultaneously thanking her godson for the interruption. She was not sure how much longer she would have handled his gaze, much less his touch. Her senses had jumped into hyper drive, leaving a burning trail of desire and god only knew what else in its wake. She breathed a sigh of relief while she nervously looked around for something to occupy her thoughts…. anything besides the man that made her entire body go haywire at just the slightest touch. She wanted to tell him how she felt!

Oh how she wanted to!

But the voice of reason won out, sending her scrambling back to her safe place and away from the risk that was too great to take.

Unbeknownst to her, the man sitting beside her was attempting to do the same. And both were failing miserably. It was in that moment Harm knew he could no longer deny the feelings that ran far deeper than friendship. In the courtroom, his words flowed as smooth and rich as melted caramel. But when it came to the woman sitting just a hair's breadth away, the words stuck like molasses in sub-zero temperatures. And he was clueless as to what to do about it…

:: END FLASHBACK::

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With the memory of her lips against his fingertips, Harm made a decision. He snatched the receiver from its cradle, deciding the expense of making a sea-to-land phone call against protocol was worth the XO's verbal reprimand. He dialed the familiar number by heart, his fingers skating nimbly over the buttons. His heart began racing as he said a silent prayer that the intended recipient would answer. He so desperately needed to hear her voice, if nothing more than to settle his nerves. Nervously, he bounced the eraser end of his pencil against the desk, the tat-tat-tat sound seeming to echo loudly in the small expanse of room. Several agonizing rings later, the warm voice belonging to his partner came across the crackly line.

'You've reached Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. I'm sorry I missed your call, but leave your contact info and a brief message. I'll return your call as soon as possible'.

A wave of disappointment and alarm washed over him.

'She's probably in an area with no reception. Or she's busy. No need to panic'.

Harm swallowing the nervous lump as he waited for the message tone.

"Hey Mac, it's uh...it's me…your partner, Harm".

'_Smooth Rabb, real smooth. For Christ's sake, she knows who you are!'._

"Look, uh….I just wanted to check in. I know I left you in a mess with all those cases. I'm real sorry about that. Um…the Admiral says you're away on an assignment, but he didn't say-".

A knock at his bulkhead door broke his concentration. Aware that he was quickly running up one very expensive phone charge, he hurried to finish his message. "I hope everything's alright. I'll call you again later, okay? Bye."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he returned the receiver.

"Enter!" he shouted distractedly towards the door, wholly unconcerned with whoever was on the other side.

Sturgis poked his head around the corner, a hesitant look on his face. Upon seeing Harm's downtrodden demeanor, he quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"You talk to her?"

Harm shook his head, idly twisting the pen between his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "No. Got her voice mail instead".

Sturgis pursed his lips in thought and propped his tall frame against the bulkhead door. "I take it the Admiral hasn't told you anything else". It was more of a statement, really, than a question.

"Yep. That would be correct". He threw his pen at the desktop organizer with the intention of it landing in its rightful slot. His aim was off, though, and the instrument hit the edge of the desk instead. Sturgis' quick reflex plucked the pen from its descent before it could hit the floor.

Harm was surprised. "Man, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were moonlighting as a pilot. Those are some sharp reflexes you've got".

Sturgis grinned, successfully tossing it into the organizer. "I'll attribute that to my baseball days at the Academy. Nothing beats a sidewinder straight down the mound with bases loaded and score tied". He folded his arms over his chest. "Look Harm, I'm sure everything is okay. I'd bet good money she is just as busy as we've been".

Harm was silent, his eyes settling on the woman in the framed photo. He had never felt so close to, and yet, so far away from her.

Sturgis followed his gaze to the framed picture. "Hmmm…..sure is strange for a bachelor like you to keep a framed photo of his partner with him while TDY".

"Sturrrrgis!" Harm groaned, biting the inside of his cheek. "For the last time, we're-"

"Just friends. Yeah, yeah, I got that poorly written memo a hundred times. But tell me this, 'Mr. Run-From-His-Feelings'," Sturgis gave him a dubious look, "what man keeps a picture of his work partner, a _framed_ picture at that, in his seabag, if they really _are_ "just friends".

"She's holding our godson, Sturgis. We were picking him up at the park. Harriet took it!" He gestured wildly to the picture as if this would make his rationale more believable.

"Ohh, and Harriet has never given you a single picture of little AJ by himself? Nice try, Harm, but you really need to come up with a better argument than that. Better yet, here's a novel idea, how about you just admit that you're in love with her and tell her so".

Harm stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. If Sturgis hadn't already had his back against the bulkhead, he would've been forced to take a step backwards at the sudden movement. "What part of: 'She doesn't love me _like I love her'_... Do You Not Understand?!"

The words came out before he even realized it. The room was suddenly quiet, save for the quiet ticking of the clock above their heads. Sturgis never took his eyes off his friend as he verbally leveled with him.

"I may not understand a lot of things in this life, but what I do understand is if you don't take a leap of faith with what you want most in life, it will slip right through your fingers." Sturgis stared at the man whom he'd known for the better part of fifteen years. His heart broke at the desperation and fear so clearly etched in his eyes. "I know any woman who would travel halfway across the world to help a man search for his missing father…..and that same woman would use her gifts to find you in the middle of the ocean…. must either be insane, or deeply in love with _SAID MAN_. If THAT'S not love, well, I don't know what the fuck LOVE is."

Momentarily taken aback at his friend's uncharacteristic vulgarity, Harm opened his mouth to speak but found that his words failed him. Sturgis paused, his hand on the bulkhead door. "Don't let her slip away, Harm. She's worth all the risk in the world. And then some". And with that he exited, closing the door with a resounding bang.

Harm collapsed in his chair, his eyes focused on the smiling face of the woman who owned his heart. He finally let the tears come, but for what reason, he did not know. He only knew his heart ached from missing her. It took his breath away.

"I'm coming home Sarah, and when I do, you and me are going to have that talk".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1230 CST

Cornerstone Café

Leavenworth, Kansas

Matt stole a glance at his niece as she gazed absentmindedly out the window. She sat there with the cup of coffee she was nursing but she hadn't even opened the menu. In the three days they'd been together, he hadn't seen her eat a single meal. She picked at her food or just snacked. This continued to disturb him. When pressed, she used the excuse of no appetite or claimed she'd already eaten. If he were a betting man, he was willing to bet good money she hadn't slept either if the dark circles around her eyes were any indicator.

He was at a loss as to what to do or who to turn to for help.

Matthew knew her like the back of his hand; Hell, he'd been the one to change her first diaper in the hospital when Deanna refused to accept that she had, in fact, given birth. But two people came to his mind: Admiral Chegwidden and Commander Rabb. He filed these names away for later discussion.

At that moment, a spunky, but clean-cut waitress bobbed over to their table to take their order. "Hello there! What can I get for you two this afternoon?"

"I'll have the soup of the day and a salad, please" he requested, closing the menu while the waitress jotted down his request.

She turned to Mac with a raised eyebrow, her hand poised over the notepad. "And for you, ma'am?"

The sudden question startled Mac out of her reverie and she nearly knocked over her cup of coffee. She gestured towards her beverage. "Oh, I'll just settle for this, thanks".

_'No surprise here'_.

Matthew gave her a pointed look. "Sarah, you didn't eat anything today. In fact, I haven't seen you eat a bite since you got here."

"Um, yeah, I'm not really all that hungry". She gave an unconvincing smile as she gathered up their menus to hand to the waitress.

"I'll be right back with your soup and salad, then. If you change your mind, just holler for me," the waitress cheerily replied, taking the menus from Mac before departing the table.

Matt bit back a sigh of frustration.

_'File that under a list of things to lecture her about'_.

Besides, he had other questions to ask.

"So Sarah….what's that handsome partner of yours been up to lately? You haven't mentioned him since you got here".

Taking a sip of her hot beverage, she twirled the stir stick in the murky liquid as a tinge of pink graced her cheeks at his description of Harm. She ignored the adjective. "I'm not sure if you saw the news the other day, but there was an incident aboard the USS Patrick Henry involving a dangerous hard landing with one of their aircraft. The pilot is under investigation for a DDO and damage to the aircraft."

Matthew nodded. "Yeah, I heard. I'm not surprised Harm was assigned that case, with him being a pilot and all. I know he's not active with a squadron anymore, but I bet that pilot is glad to have him on his side". He noted, with silence, the faint tinge of red that grace his niece's cheek.

_'Oh yeah, there's definitely something there'_.

Mac took a sip of her coffee. "I have no doubt the Admiral and SecNav are putting his feet to the fire to get this settled without a lot of media coverage."

The waitress came back at that moment to deliver Matthew's meal. He voiced his appreciation, grabbing a pack of crackers from the bread basket while nodding at Mac to continue.

"I'm not sure how long the investigation will take. We didn't get a chance to talk before he left for the _Henry_".

Lightbulbs clicked in Matt's head.

_'Well, that explains a lot'_.

"I take it he doesn't know about my situation?"

Mac shook her head. "No. The Admiral is the only one. I asked him not to tell Harm. I didn't want anything to take his attention away from the investigation. He can't afford to be distracted; this investigation is too important".

Emptying the last pack of crackers into his soup bowl, he reached across the table for her hand. "Sarah, you're important too. You must know our time together is quickly coming to an end. And you know you shouldn't go through this by yourself. You need to let your friends in…. Even if it's just a little".

Mac willed herself not to cry, her mouth trembling slightly as she fought to form the words. "I'll be okay, Uncle Matt. Everyone's got their own problems to be worried with mine. Besides, I'm a Marine, remember? We're tough".

He squeezed her hand affectionately, seeing the fear of losing him so clearly in her eyes. "I know that, baby duck. I also know that it's okay to show emotion. It's okay to ask for help. And it's ok-kay," he emphasized the last part, "to let people in your heart, Sarah. Not everyone who comes into your life…. is there to trample it. It is okay to need someone to love, Sarah".

She met his soft gaze with her own, albeit watery. "Uncle Matt, you know I love you more than anything, don't you? You are my entire world."

He brought his other hand above to sandwich hers and tightened his grip. A thick wad of emotion lodged deep in his throat. "I do know, baby duck. And you know you're the brightest star to have ever lit up my life, don't you?"

Mac could only nod in agreement. "Yeah". She kissed his hand, sniffling back the tears before the dam of her emotions could burst. She gestured towards the bowl in front of him. "Your soup's gonna get cold". Matt saw the clamping down of her emotions and knew the conversation was over for the time-being anyway.

"Ah yes, nothing worse than cold soup!"

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they both allowed themselves to get lost in their own thoughts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2200

Officer Quarters

USS Patrick Henry

Somewhere in the Atlantic

It was 2200.

He had read every newspaper article printed in the last four hundred years.

He had counted enough sheep that he felt quite certain he had counted all of the United Kingdom's sheep population.

And he had sung the '99 Bottles of Beer' song so many times he was fairly sure he had counted enough to fill six truckloads of the intoxicating beverage.

But yet there he lay, wide awake, his mind unable to turn off. Frustrated, he ripped the sheets off his body and pulled on his running gear. If there was one fail safe way of forcing his mind to power down, it was a couple of vigorous trips around the block. He wrenched the door open, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible, only to be met with Sturgis blocking the doorway. He shot him an annoyed look. "Sturgis, now's not-"

He cut him off, holding up his hands in defense. "Look man, I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier. Well, part of it anyway".

Harm gave him a doubtful look.

Sturgis glanced over his shoulder. "This isn't exactly where I want to have this conversation."

With a sigh, Harm stepped aside and allowed him in. Sturgis took in his disheveled appearance, noting the look of exhaustion and frustration.

"Can't sleep, I take it?"

He shot him an annoyed look. "Ya think?"

"Look man, I shouldn't have said what I said…maybe not the way I said it". Sturgis took a seat in his chair. "At least hear me out".

Harm sat on the edge of the bunk and gestured at the floor beneath him. "Floor's yours".

"Harm...I've known you for well over ten years. I've seen you hurt and nurse your wounds from a breakup. I _know _what Diane's death did to you."

Harm's head shot up at this and he gave Sturgis a warning look.

He refused to back down. "But I've _never_ seen you like this. So afraid of admitting how you feel that it's going to end up costing you the very woman you are afraid to express your feelings for. You think Mac doesn't love you? You feel like she would toss your feelings to the side like yesterday's sale paper?"

Harm remained silent, unwilling to acknowledge Sturgis' points.

"Newsflash Harm, she _loves you too_. And she's scared to say it. So, one of you has to make the first move". He grabbed the picture on his desk and pointed at her figure. "The question is, who's it gonna be?"

Harm sat with his head in his hands. The thought of opening his heart up and making it vulnerable to the very woman who took his breath away…..terrified him yet exhilarated him all in the same breath.

"You know, Harm, you don't think twice about getting in the air, doing what you gotta do to accomplish the mission. It's second nature to you. You know there are risks involved, but you don't let it stop you, even after all the close calls and punch-outs you've had. So, why is telling Mac how you feel about her so different? I don't get it, Harm," he implored for an explanation, "I really don't".

Harm was quiet for a moment, studying the laces on his sneakers. Sturgis waited patiently, giving him time to digest his words. "Because….Sturgis….I know if I get in trouble, I can punch out. I have a chance to save myself. And if I can't….well then, that's it. It's game over". His voice quivered slightly, "If I tell Mac how I feel, and she doesn't feel the same, I don't have the option to punch out. I….I lose everything….but I'm still alive. I have- I have to live with the knowledge she doesn't want me that way".

Sturgis gently touched his knee, causing Harm to look up at him. "I'll repeat what I said earlier: _Any _woman that would follow a man halfway around the world to help him find his father, and _any_ woman that can use her gift to find that same man in the middle of an ocean, must be deeply in love with him. There's no other explanation for it, Harm. Take the risk and TELL her. Before it's too late." He stood, then held out a hand. "Now let's blow off some restless energy. As my father would say: You're as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs".

Harm managed a quiet laugh, allowing Sturgis to pull him to his feet. "Thanks Sturgis….for everything. I owe you a million."

"Yeah ya do, but you can repay me by going after that gorgeous girl of yours," he winked at him, thumping him on the back as they exited into the hallway.

"Don't let Mac hear you call her that. She'd wipe the court with you," Harm warned, following Sturgis out into the corridor.

"Nah, she'll be too busy kissing you senseless and saying what an idiot you are for taking so long!"

At the thought of Sarah's lips on his, a nervous grin crept across Harm's as tiny butterflies took flight in the pit of his stomach. He was grateful Sturgis was in front of him and unable to see his reaction.

Or so he thought.

"Wipe that smug grin off your face!" Sturgis laughed as they rounded another corridor.

Harm groaned in mock frustration. "I hate you, just for the record".

"Whatever it takes to get your thick aviator head out of your lawyer ass!"

The two lawyers laughed exited the door leading to the flight deck.

_'Two more days, Rabb' _

Harm said under his breath.

_'Two more days, Rabb,' _

Sturgis thought to himself

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2100

Memories Bed and Breakfast

Fredonia, Kansas

Mac channel surfed with the tv on mute, her mind unable to focus on the images flipping quickly on the screen. It was late in the night, which meant programming was about to turn into a bunch of relentless infomercials and paid programming. She glanced over at her uncle's sleeping form, the late lunch and game of cards they'd played having worn him out. His physician had warned her of his increasing fatigue, and it would only grow worse as the cancer spread to his lymph nodes. Mac felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she quietly berated herself.

_'Shame on you, Mackenzie. He's the one going through hell and you're over here feeling sorry for yourself' _

She wiped away the tears with a frustrated hand.

Her thoughts drifted to another man who occupied as much head space as the one lying next to her.

_'God what I wouldn't give for one of Harm's hugs right now'_ she thought, absentmindedly wrapping her arms around herself as she half-heartedly watched the muted episode of 'Matlock' on TV.

Mac knew the Admiral was waiting on her to inform Harm of Matthew's condition. He had remained true to his word, though, leaving the timing of that discussion somewhat up to her. She had seen the missed call from him on her cellphone. The notification made her heart quicken with anticipation; she almost hit the return-call button….but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Part of her was afraid she would start crying over the phone, and that was something she definitely didn't want.

The other part pointed out that Harm had a tremendous amount at stake with the investigation. Regardless of what Matthew had said earlier that afternoon, there were far more critical issues to resolve. Besides, there was nothing he could do to change what was happening. She hoped the Admiral would keep his word until Harm returned home. With a huff of disgust, she pressed the 'off' button on the remote. She snuggled up behind her uncle like she used to do when they spent nights camping out under the big sky of Red Rock Mesa. He had always been so strong, invincible to her, and she felt all those years ago that nothing could hurt her so long as he was around. She bit back a sudden sob when she realized that moments like this were quickly dwindling. She draped her arm over his torso, giving him a firm hug before finally giving herself over to restless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::: END CHAPTER SIX::


	8. Chapter 7

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Seven

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall/Winter 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0715

Memories Bed & Breakfast

Room 230

Fredonia, Kansas

Mac squeezed the last of her uncle's belongings into her suitcase, careful to ensure his few possessions did not get crushed. She yawned as she leveraged her weight against the suitcase so it would zip shut. She'd only slept an hour or so since the two had turned in the previous evening. There were just too many thoughts and emotions coursing through her to allow her quality sleep. On several occasions, she had been startled awake, but felt a sense of relief to know Uncle Matt was there. While it comforted her to know he was with her, it also reminded her of _why_ she was there. Now the only thing sleep offered Mac were horrible nightmares, and she knew they were waiting just beyond the horizon.

The songbirds fluttered just beyond the bay window, undoubtedly soaking up the tender warmth provided by the early morning sun. When the stormy weather moved out during the midnight hour, it left a beautiful morning in its wake. But Mac couldn't enjoy it. She felt as dead inside as the shriveled vines and paltry grass withering from the harshness of winter's desolation. Stifling another yawn, her eyes settled on Matt, who lay resting peacefully. If they were going to make it to the airport on time, he needed to get bathed and dressed. With a heavy sigh, she crossed to the other side of the bed and knelt beside him. She gently shook his shoulder until he began to rouse.

"Uncle Matt, it's time to wake up. Our flight leaves in two hours," she murmured softly, running her hand through his short brown hair. She noticed, with a twinge of sadness, the grey hair that had begun to creep into his hairline. Despite this, he still cut quite a handsome figure. The O'Hara family genes were so strong that Mac bore a striking resemblance to him. She remembered, on multiple occasions, people had mistaken him for her father. It was a misconception Mac never bothered to correct. In her eyes, Matt was far better to her than Joe Mackenzie had ever been.

Matt opened his eyes to find his niece giving him a soft smile. He blinked a few times to bring his vision into focus, then glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "Is it already time to get up?"

"Yes. Erik is picking us up at 0830 to take us to the airport. Our flight leaves at 1000". She assisted him in sitting upright, giving him a few seconds to adjust to the change in position. "If we want to make our flight, we need to get you ready".

He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing his eyes before plucking up the bottle of pain medication sitting next to the alarm clock. He squinted in confusion as he read the small print on the label. "Man, I feel like I laid my head down just a minute ago. These meds they have me on...whew! They are potent".

Mac was unsure what to say so she remained quiet. In her thirty-two years, she could never remember her uncle needing pain medication. Once before, he broke his leg after falling off a 40-foot ladder and he still did not ask for any. He was always so tough and seemed larger than life. Hearing him mention the pain medications made her heart clench. It was just another painful reminder of what he was going through.

"It's nearly 0730, far past reveille, Marine. And this bed isn't squared away. Did my beating your six at Russian Rummy last night wear you out? Or are you going soft on me?" he teased. A look of merriment danced in his eyes. Anyone who knew Mac knew she was up before the sun!

She playfully took the bait and gave him a look. "Noooo, but _somebody_ was cutting logs last night which made it hard for this Marine to get some shut-eye". Mac gently pulled him to his feet. "I've drawn your bath water so get your six moving before I take a switch to it!". She gave him a playful swat on the behind.

"Okay! Okay! Jeez…. pretty soon you'll have me doing fifty sit-ups!" he answered in mock protest. He shuffled behind her towards the bathroom.

She deposited his clothing on the closed lid of the toilet before testing the water to ensure it was adequately warm. Satisfied, Mac pulled two fluffy beach-sized towels from the rack. She laid one in front of the tub and draped the other over his clothes. "The water is good. There is a fresh bar of soap with a washcloth, and If you need my help...just let me know". She turned to exit the bathroom and hastily added, "which, uh, I hope you don't...but I mean…if you do-". She broke off mid sentence, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks at the thought of the uncomfortable dilemma. He was growing more unsteady on his feet, since she had first arrived. The last thing she wanted was for him to slip on the tile floor.

Matt bit back the laughter at the redness that swiftly crept across her face. He couldn't resist goading her. "I hope I don't, Sarah, but I know I can rely on you to save the day. As you so nicely reminded me, Marines never leave a fellow Marine behind!" He loved getting her riled up!

Thoroughly embarrassed, Mac quickly left the bathroom but not without issuing strict orders for him to clean behind his ears. "That rule only applies on the battlefield, Uncle Matt, not the bathroom!"

His laughter could be heard from the other side of the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0815

JAG HQ

Admiral Chegwidden's Office

Falls Church, VA

_'In other world news this morning, four American troops and three soldiers from the Israeli Ground Forces Coalition were killed yesterday afternoon when their Humvee ran over an IED. The incident occurred just outside the city of Kabul. No update on the two surviving soldiers who were medi-vacd to a nearby refugee camp for medical attention. Reporting from the frontlines of the bitter war between Allied Forces and Al Qaeda... this is Stuart Dunston with ZNN...Back to you in the newsroom, Gary'_.

With a sigh of mixed relief and disgust, AJ pressed the 'mute' button on the TV remote to silence the mind-numbing narration of the war waging beyond the screen.

_'Thank God my staff aren't caught up in that mess'._

AJ had a considerable amount of control over his officers TDY assignments. There was one area, however, in which he had little control: Combat Deployment. So far, he had been incredibly lucky; his staff had been spared since his appointment as JAG. It was rather surprising, especially where Mac was concerned. She possessed a particular skill set that few Marines, especially females, held. She was fluent in three foreign languages (one belonged in the Arabic family), an expert marksman, and had previous combat experience. It made her a hot contender for SPEC-OPS Deployment.

He nudged his wire-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, then turned his attention to the thick file folder on his desk. While the pile only weighed an ounce or so, the legal ramifications that could potentially stem from it weighed far more. He had been up half the night carefully reading each page.

It was the report on the mishap investigation aboard the Patrick Henry.

When he sent Commanders Rabb and Turner out to investigate, he knew the process would be scrutinized like an ant under a magnifying glass. For the safety of everyone involved, AJ had hoped for both an expedient and thorough investigation.

He checked his watch; Admiral Morris was scheduled to meet with him in one hour to discuss the findings.

_'And not a moment too soon'. _

He was beyond ready to put pen to paper to formally close the investigation and deliver the news to the SECNAV.

Tiner knocked on the open door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Excuse me sir, but Colonel Mackenzie is on line one".

He picked up the receiver. "Thank you Tiner".

"Good morning, Sir" Mac greeted.

"Same to you Colonel, how are you?" For all the positive influences that resulted from the military's strict expectations on decorum, especially in regards to addressing senior officers, there were times that AJ wished protocol weren't so straight-laced.

"They're going as well as can be expected, we're getting ready to depart for the airport. Our flight leaves at 1000. We'll land in Dulles at 1400".

"I know you'll be glad to get home and settled in. Send me your arrival information and I'll pick you up". AJ had been contemplating how to help his Chief of Staff, but in order to get her the help she so desperately needed, he had to speak with Matthew. "Colonel, is your uncle available to talk?"

She glanced over at Matthew, who was sitting on the side of the bed, pulling his socks on. "He is sir, would you like to speak with him?"

"I would, if it's not an inconvenience".

"No sir, not at all". Her voice muffled slightly as she handed the phone to Matt. "The Admiral would like to speak with you. I'm going in here to brush my teeth. Then we'll be ready to leave".

Matt nodded, taking the phone from her outstretched hand. "Hello Admiral, it's been quite some time since we last talked."

"Yes it has, Colonel, and please, it's AJ", he requested. A smile tugged at his mouth.

_'The apple sure didn't fall far from the tree'._

"Well, in that case, call me Matt" Matt replied.

"Very well. How are you feeling today?".

Matt glanced into the bathroom and watched as Mac turned on the sink faucet, then squirted a line of toothpaste onto her toothbrush. The sound of running water would make it a little harder for her to overhear. The less she knew, the more he felt he could protect her. "I'm alright, AJ. I don't have a lot of energy. They told me to expect that more as things progress".

The slight change in his tone of voice did not go unnoticed. "Certainly understandable, but Mac reads you like an open book" AJ pointed out. He was beginning to sense a pattern, one that made it fairly easy to see where his junior officer inherited her reluctance in asking for help. "Nothing escapes her, I'm sure, especially where you are concerned".

Matt tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear while he pulled the laces of his shoes into a smart bow. "That she does, AJ...that she does. She's always been so damn perceptive when it comes to those she loves".

AJ leaned back in his chair. "Matt, how is she? I am concerned. She doesn't need to handle this alone, but she won't listen. She's so damn hard-headed!".

He opened his mouth to answer, but Mac chose that moment to step out of the bathroom. She stopped to give him a minty peck on the cheek. "I'm going downstairs to turn in our key so we can check out. It shouldn't take but just a minute". She gestured towards the phone, "Let the Admiral know I will call him when we land".

Matt tipped his head in acknowledgement, waiting until the door shut behind her before answering AJ's question. "I've asked her the same questions you're asking me. She claims she is sleeping and eating, but if there is anything I know about Sarah... it's that she puts up a brave front".

AJ took in this information, carefully mulling it over. "I don't know if you are aware, but Harm does not know about your illness. He's been TDY for the past week; investigating an F-14 mishap on the _Patrick Henry_. Mac asked me not to say anything to him. She said she didn't want it to cloud his concentration during the case". He blew out a breath of exasperation. "Matt, she needs him. He's the only one who can get through to her. I've held off as long as I can, but I don't know how much longer I can do that. Harm calls every day and asks about her".

It was easy for Matt to save his niece from herself, but when he was the one causing her so much pain, well, it just made the pain all the deeper. And the worst part was that it couldn't be fixed. "AJ, I'm at a total loss here. When I took her to dry out at Red Rock Mesa following her wreck, it was easier to get through to her. She didn't have so many walls built around herself. But now, I'm given the infamous, 'I'm fine...I'm a Marine' speech whenever I start poking or prodding". His voice tightened against the lump in his throat. "I never….in a million years, thought I would be the one to cause her so much pain. It's not supposed to be this way, AJ".

The senior officer felt the pain in Matthew's voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he ran ideas over in his mind. "Well, I am her superior. I could order her to get some food and rest, although I have a feeling that wouldn't go over too well".

"I know my Sarah. In a situation like this, she'll tend to everyone but herself. She'll always put her needs last. And you know she's got more than her fair share of stubbornness. I mean, she _IS _an O'Hara, after all".

"Unfortunately, I do. I have first-hand experience in dealing with said stubborn, Marine". AJ looked at his calendar, the date of Mac's return circled in red. "I'll deal with her once she gets home. But it won't be pretty. She's one of the few officers that makes me think twice about getting on her bad side".

Matt chuckled. "That will be a sight to see, for sure!". He zipped up his jacket. "I'll see you when we land in Dulles. I thank you for all of your help, especially where my Sarah is concerned".

"You're welcome. Mac's family. She has an entire office full of people who care about her very much. I'll see you at the airport".

"Thanks AJ, see you then" he replied, hanging up the phone just as Mac returned from the lobby. He handed the phone to her as she helped him to his feet.

"I think we've got everything, so if you're ready, we'll head downstairs. Erik is waiting." She threw her backpack over her shoulder and reached for the handle of the rolling suitcase before extending her free arm towards her uncle.

"Oh no you don't! I've got this," he grinned, reaching down to take the suitcase before she could grab it.

She looked at him with a reprimanding stare, taking the suitcase back with a firm tug. "I don't think so, Mister! The doctors gave strict instructions for you not to lift or pull anything".

Matt playfully tugged her ear as she turned to navigate them out into the hallway. "Why are you so stubborn? You know, I think you'd try to win a staring competition with a mannequin!"

"Oh hoh! You just wait!" she pretended to threaten...her finger barely an inch from his nose as she pointed.

"Or what?" he replied teasingly as they descended the stairs into the lobby below.

"My wrath! It's inescapable!"

Laughing, the duo wrapped their arms around each other as they headed out into the frigid air.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1000

Flight Deck

USS Patrick Henry

Somewhere in the Atlantic

"….and the nun pulled off her cloak and said, "I'm the bus driver!" A roar of laughter erupted from the mass of sailors piled in the mess hall after one of them delivered the punch line. Harm couldn't help but laugh at the distasteful, yet humorous joke.

_'That's squid life for ya! Rude, crude, and no room for prudes!_'

His smile faded, however, when his thoughts returned to one particular Marine. He had waited impatiently for her call since he'd requested the Admiral to deliver his message, but she had yet to call. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, not just from the investigation, but the anxiety that had plagued him since he had left JAG almost a week prior. Something was not right, of that he was convinced. He took a swig of his coffee, then peered into the murky liquid with a look of dismay. It was absolutely terrible.

"Mac always says squids don't know to properly brew coffee", Sturgis said as he joined Harm, propped against the bulkhead door of the cafeteria, watching the ruckus from a distance. He sniffed Harm's cup and his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. "I'm beginning to think she's right".

Swirling the caffeinated liquid around, Harm took another sip before deciding it was a lost cause and tossed it in the garbage can.

Add that to another thing he missed about her.

"Don't let her hear you say that! It will send her ego right through the roof and I'll never hear the end of it".

Sturgis smirked, "Or maybe you just don't want to have her rub it in your face that she is right and you were wrong…..AGAIN".

Harm shot him an annoyed look.

"At any rate," he leaned back against the steel wall behind him, "if all goes like I think it should... we may be on the first helo back to port tomorrow. The Admiral was pleased with our report. The final decision from Admiral Morris should be in this morning". With an aire of faux smugness, he added, "And, as a 'thank you' for our efforts, I might have talked the XO into letting you take a bird up."

Harm's eyebrows shot up in surprise. In all the years he'd known Sturgis, he never appeared to fully understand Harm's bone-deep love for flying. It had rather become, at pivotal moments of their careers, a source of tension between the two.

"I can't say anything official, but he basically said if you wanted it…the trip was yours". Sturgis scuffed his shoe against the knocker. "Look Rabb,...I know you and I haven't had the best kind of friendship since I came to JAG. I know most of that is my own doing. I, uh, have a tendency to step on people's toes. So, I just wanted to, you know, extend the olive branch to you. For what it's worth". He ended the sentence rather awkwardly. He wasn't completely sure what else he should or could say. Apologies were an enigma. They could be intensely liberating on one hand, but on the other, they could be downright terrifying. It left an empty feeling especially if the intended recipient was not receptive to it.

Harm's veins began prickling with the kind of adrenaline associated with the sensation of pulling multiple G's. But as much as his hands itched to feel the power of a 2,000 pound aircraft in their grip... he had to decline. The feeling of her calling him home was far stronger than any stunt in a jet. And answer the call he would. He turned to face his friend with a look of resolution and desperation deep within his eyes.

"Sturgis, I really appreciate that, honestly I do. Any other time, you know I would be first man on deck to jump in that bird. I don't get that opportunity very often, especially given what happened last year. But I've got to get back to JAG. I can't be out here on ship in the middle of the ocean. I've just got to get back. Now".

Sturgis couldn't help but smile in understanding. Harm's love for flying had, as so many other pilots before him, been replaced by a woman. "I know. You need to be with Mac".

Harm nodded mutely, casting his eyes downward as the moisture inexplicably gathered in the corner of his eyes. He needed to return to the one person who kept him sane in the tumultuous world that he was a prisoner. He needed to wrap her in his arms, bury his nose into the delicious smell that was her shampoo. He needed to protect her from both real and perceived threats. He needed to feel her warm breath tickling his neck and the silky, soft strands of her hair against his cheek. He needed to drown himself in the deep, dark eyes of the woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

He needed her and he _was sick with worry about her_.

That's all there was to it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1000

Kansas City International Airport

Kansas City, Missouri

Mac tucked her uncle closer to her side, quietly flexing her arm to get the circulation back from the awkward position. He had fallen asleep shortly after departing, the gentle vibrations of the jet engines beneath them lulled him into quiet repose. She knew it would be the last trip they would ever make together, but she was so thankful he was going home with her. A fresh sting of tears pooled in her eyes. Clenching her jaw, she willed herself not to let them fall. After all, she was a Marine, and Marines didn't cry.

_'Stop crying! Get yourself together! You're being weak_!'

But the pain in her heart hurt so much she wasn't sure how much longer she could bear it.

'You have to. You don't have a choice!'

She gently arranged her uncle so that he was leaning against her shoulder. It kept him from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. She would do whatever it took to make him as comfortable as possible. Picking up his hand, she held it against her cheek as she relished the warmth it offered. She was exhausted to the bone and her eyes stung from fatigue. Too tired to fight them any longer, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1151 Zulu

Harriet and Bud's Residence

McLean, VA

The pot of soup simmered as tendrils of heat from the hearty liquid floated upwards, only to vanish in a flash. Occasionally, a small patch of bubbles would surface and pop, but the liquid was in no danger of burning under the watchful eye of Harriet. She stood quietly at the helm, mindlessly stirring while her thoughts were knee deep in concern over her friend. She knew the heartache Mac was experiencing. She and Bud were still grieving the loss of their infant daughter. Each dawn brought a fresh set of challenges they had to overcome. Each day they had to force themselves to get out of bed to continue living life while their daughter's was snuffed out before it ever began. The irrational guilt and anguish were almost unbearable. Oftentimes, Harriet felt the only source of comfort were their friends in the JAG family, and of course, their precious young son.

Little AJ didn't understand why his parents were so sad. He didn't understand why his role as 'big brother' was cruelly snatched away by the merciless hand of tragedy. Even in his own little world, the youngster knew something was missing. He just did not know how to articulate it. But he tried, in his own innocent way. On more than one occasion, he had approached his mother, thrust his beloved stuffed ragbunny into her arms, all the while jabbering, 'Sad mommy... I sowwy'. And Harriet would scoop her son up, the tears running down her face as he clumsily attempted to wipe them away.

Someday, when he was old enough to understand, they would explain to him what happened. For now, they had to lean on each other and their friends to help them stay afloat in a sea of grief that threatened to drown them. She sent a silent request to her little girl to watch over Mac and that a certain sailor would soon tuck her into the safe confines of his heart.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1400 Zulu

Dulles Airport

Washington D.C.

The two stayed seated as the plane taxied to the terminal. They were eager to get home after the long flight. There had been a technical problem with the plane's heating and cooling system, and as such, their flight was delayed by over an hour. Admiral Chegwidden was scheduled to pick them up from the airport. As they exited the terminal, she spotted his tall, straight figure near the arrivals monitors. They quickly caught up to him.

"Sir, I am so sorry about the del-" she began, a little out of breath from hauling the suitcase with one hand, supporting her uncle with the other, and toting her heavy backpack.

He immediately cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Nothing to apologize for, Mac. Besides, I was running behind. I underestimated rush hour traffic coming from the east side of town. And there was an accident on the Beltway".

He warmly shook Matt's hand. He had not changed much in the years since he had last seen him, but the toll of his illness was beginning to show itself in his eyes. "It's good to see you again, Matt".

Matt returned the greeting. "Likewise AJ".

AJ looked at Mac carefully before posing his question. "Well, you two must be getting hungry. I know I am. Do you have any objections if we stop off at this little restaurant I like on the way home?"

Matt shook his head. "Not in the least, you know plane food isn't all that wonderful, AJ" he replied, grimacing with remembrance. He recalled their conversation from earlier that morning. He had a feeling AJ was up to something.

"I do...Seems I remember having a few nasty encounters over the years. Consider yourself lucky if your food doesn't make a run for it when you go to put a knife in it".

The elder Colonel laughed, then began searching the signs overhead. "Where is the restroom? Nature is calling. I can't exactly take a message".

Mac turned around, spotting the restroom sign across from the gate in which they'd exited. "Over there, Uncle Matt. Admiral, I'll be right back". She looped her arm through Matt's and walked slowly with him towards the bathroom, stopping just outside the double entry doors. He was growing tired, of that much she could tell.

AJ followed behind, pulling Mac's suitcase with him. "You mind if we stop and eat on the way? You look like you're about to fall over"

"Oh no sir, I'm fine" she replied, reaching to retrieve her suitcase from AJ.

"Not so fast, Mac. I'm carrying this," AJ barked. He took a firm grip on the handle to keep her from snatching it away.

"But sir," she began, only to have AJ cut her off.

"But what Mac?"

"I can carry my own suitcase sir, you don't have to do that," Mac insisted.

He bit back a sigh of frustration. Damn if she wasn't the most hard-headed person he'd ever dealt with! "Mac, I am well aware that you are capable of carrying it. Let me take it off your hands. Besides, your uncle could use a steady arm to hold on to," he referenced Matt's slow gait.

Mac eyed her C.O carefully. "That's too much to ask, sir. You've already spent an hour waiting on our flight".

Okay, that's the final straw! He hated to pull rank but it was the only way she would listen.

"Colonel, don't force me to make this an order" he warned.

"No sir", she snapped upright in automatic response to his no-nonsense tone.

He sighed inwardly, his eyes catching Matthew as he stopped short exiting the bathroom upon seeing the exchange between the two. "Mac, I'm not doing this to hurt you but you've got to give yourself a break. It is a heavy suitcase and you've been hauling it everywhere. At least let me do this much for you".

Mac considered him for a moment, then nodded in acquiescence. She was really too tired to argue with him.

Matt returned from the bathroom, and with their belongings in hand, the trio exited the airport amongst the throng of holiday travelers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1430 Zulu

Rivendell Cafe

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

The chill in the wind nearly cut them to the bone as they crossed the street. Once inside, the warm atmosphere that enveloped Rivendell Café instantly cocooned them. It was the only eatery that remained open into the late hours, mainly because so many truckers traveled the Beltway through Georgetown. The building was originally a bookstore built in the early 1920's. Over the course of several decades, it had changed hands numerous times, but was never properly maintained. Combined with a dwindling demand for the printed medium, the store permanently shut its doors shortly after the turn of the century. The forces of nature began to stake a claim on the building, turning it into just another dilapidated, old eyesore in the small town. In 2005, the building was slated to be demolished, but two entrepreneurs saw the gem lying under decades of dirt and dust. Against the advice of the city council members, they purchased the property and invested a year's worth of sweat and capital. The once vacant, run down building was transformed into a very quaint café that everyone in the area loved to patronize.

The three sat in one of the plush booths near the window, taking in the ambience of the café. Pictures from the 1920's and 1930's were placed under the glass tabletops, highlighting the building in its previous glory as a bookstore. Souvenirs people had donated from their world travels were hung on the walls. A large antique rocking horse sat in one corner of the dining room. An authentic, antique Kimono hung on the opposite wall. Everywhere one looked there were fascinating objects from different cultures and countries. It gave the café a worldly but cozy feeling from an era gone by.

A waitress came over to take their orders. Both AJ and Matt placed theirs. When the waitress looked at Mac expectantly, all she ordered was a small salad.

Matt shot a knowing look at AJ.

'_Told you'. _

AJ eyed her intently. "Mac, that's not enough to feed a bird!"

Although Mac's eyes didn't meet the Admiral's, she could feel his scrutiny. She didn't dare look up for fear of giving herself away. The stress of her uncle's illness had stolen her appetite and ability to eat, but she didn't want to worry either of them. The less they knew...the better it would be. "Oh, it's plenty, sir. I…um…I ate on the flight back so…I'm not terribly hungry". She nervously fidgeted with her wadded-up napkin, wishing that the two would just drop the subject.

"Sarah, you've been by my side for most of the week. I haven't seen you eat much of anything. You need to get something more substantial in you or you'll end up sick" Matt insisted.

"I have eaten, Uncle Matt. You just didn't see it. I've eaten breakfast on the days I came to see you before you were released. And, um...I ate on the flight over here and back". She willed herself to sound convincing because she couldn't let him know... she was already sick.

Her C.O. rolled his eyes. While his junior officer was an excellent lawyer both in and out of the courtroom, she was a terrible liar. AJ felt she could use some lessons from the mastermind of cover-ups...none other than Special Agent Clayton Webb! He cast a glance at Matt, who in turn was contemplating his niece's revelation. It would do no good to argue with her in front of her uncle. For reasons yet unknown to AJ, it was obvious she did not want Matthew to know of her poor appetite and inability to sleep. He made the decision to drop the subject for now. He made a promise to himself to address it with her in private at the first available opportunity.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER SEVEN::


	9. Chapter 8

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Eight

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall/Winter 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her thru the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

AJ stole a glance at Mac as they drove along. Throughout the meal, she had remained fairly silent and he often caught her staring listlessly into the darkness. Matt had fallen asleep in the backseat, exhausted after the long and delayed flight.

He contemplated what to say. The Commanding Officer in him warned not to get overly involved in the lives of his officers. But his people at JAG…they were different. They were like family; _his _family. And when family struggled, he couldn't stand by and let them struggle alone.

"Mac, have you been getting proper nutrition and adequate rest?"

Mac snapped out of her thoughts. Her conscience struggled as she contemplated whether to tell the truth. Her conscience won. "No sir". Her voice was so quiet that AJ had to strain his hearing to catch the words.

"I thought as much". He eased the SUV onto the exit ramp towards Georgetown. "Mac, you must look after yourself. If you don't eat right, your immune system will get weak. It puts you at a higher risk for infections and viruses".

"I know, sir. But my entire world has been turned upside down. And it's selfish of me to be thinking of myself. My uncle needs me". A fine tremor permeated her voice despite her best efforts.

It pained AJ to hear the distress in her voice. He knew he came across as a hard-ass Commanding Officer, but his heart hurt regardless. "Mac, you have us at JAG. We're family. We care about you. All you have to do is ask".

"Sir, I hate depending on others. It's not what Marines do". She fought to keep her voice calm and steady. "We were taught to deal with difficult situations alone, to rely on our Marine training. It was bad enough that I'm an al…that my uncle had to help me…well….you know." She looked out the window in embarrassment. The Marine in her was disappointed that the human part of her getting the best of her! In front of her C.O,. no less!

He pulled into her apartment complex and found a parking space. "Mac, you hear me, and you hear me well. There is nothing, _absolutely nothing_ to be ashamed of. Whether it be your past, or your present". He took the opportunity to face her. " All of us have our own addictions and demons to fight. Including myself. My stubborn pride wouldn't let me ask my own people for help. Even when they were all I had left. And because of that, I've found myself in some pretty sticky situations I almost didn't get out of."

"But you let me defend you in that situation involving that kid, sir" she replied earnestly.

He nodded. "Yes, Mac. That's when I learned to let go of my pride and stopped being a jerk to those who just wanted to help. I realized, I may be a former SEAL and an Admiral, but it doesn't exclude me from needing help". He gave her a wry grin as she returned one, albeit sheepish, before he moved to wake Matthew up.

"Home sweet home".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1550

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

Colonel O'Hara sighed with relief as Mac ushered them into her apartment. "There's no place like home".

She turned to relieve AJ of her suitcase. "Admiral, can I get you anything?"

He grimaced. "No, but thanks. I need to get back to the office. I've got a long day tomorrow". At Mac's puzzled expression, he answered her unasked question. "Two words Colonel: the SECNAV".

She gave him a sympathetic look. Her C. O. was not exactly in the SECNAV's good graces. Whenever he darkened the doors of JAG, it always accompanied bad news. He, along with Clayton Webb, seemed to only bring trouble and chaos. She moved to help her uncle out of his coat. "Give me just a minute to get him settled in before you leave, sir. I need to talk with you ". She ushered Matt down the short hallway and into the guest bedroom, their voices drifting away.

AJ took the opportunity to look at the picture frames that lined the mantle. There were ones he'd seen before: the group photo on the steps at JAG, the Roberts' wedding party, and the christening of baby AJ. Then there were ones he'd not seen: pictures of Harm and Mac on their various adventures over the years, one of Mac with her 'little sister' Chloe, and Jingo. The last photo showed Matt helping her ride a bike. She sat perched on the seat, the training wheels laying on the grass behind them. As with any daunting task, she wore an expression of extreme concentration. It was obvious she took this lesson very seriously. Matt stood to the side, his big hands covering hers where they tightly gripped the handlebars.

"I was six in that picture. Uncle Matt promised he'd buy me that bike if I let him take the training wheels off."

Mac's voice behind him startled him right out of his skin.

"Damn Colonel! What are you trying to do? Kill me before the SECNAV does?"

"I'm sorry sir". She gave an apologetic smile. "I thought you heard me walk up".

"Guess my SEAL ears a little rusty"

"I loved that bike. Took a few tries and a few bruises and scrapes, but I got the hang of it. A few weeks later, I came home from school and it was gone. My father told me it had been stolen. I believed him. When I saw the neighbor's kid riding it the next day, I went over to take it back. We got into a fight and I broke his nose".

AJ snorted with amusement. He didn't doubt for a minute she must have been a scrappy little kid!

"His dad called the cops. And then I learned my father traded it to Jacob's dad. He owed him money he lost in a poker game".

_'What kind of father does that_?

"Anyway, that was a long time ago". She waved away the memory, and the emotions, as though it were a pesky gnat. After all, it did not do to dwell on the past.

AJ set the frame back down in its rightful spot and turned to face her. "Rabb is done with the investigation. You _need_ to talk to him. I will NOT delay any longer".

Mac rubbed her arms against the sudden chill that had crept into the room. "Yes sir". She sighed. "When does he get in?"

"24 hours".

He saw the flash of disappointment in Mac's eyes. He knew the feelings they held for each other ran far deeper than friendship.

"Thank you again, sir". She walked him to the door, and for the first time that evening, looked him in the eyes. "I'll never forget all you've done for the two of us".

"Take the next two days off. I don't want to see you in the office until Commander Rabb returns. That's an order, Colonel". He pulled rank to let her know he meant business.

"Yes sir!"

And with that, AJ exited her apartment. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he threw her for another loop. Shaking her head, she checked on her uncle, who had fallen asleep, one more time before settling herself on the couch. She had a book and a cup of coffee in hand. It was going to be a long evening.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0800

Conference Room

USS Patrick Henry

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

Storm clouds had moved in over the Patrick Henry during the early morning hours, and as a result, the carrier's movements were choppier than usual. But he was used to it. For once, he was glad Mac wasn't with him. Throughout their partnership, they had been on countless carrier investigations. On more than one occasion, she'd been forced to visit sickbay for intravenous, anti-nausea medications. He always hated seeing her suffer from seasickness, always hated seeing her face pale and covered in sweat. No matter how hard she worked to hide it, it was obvious. And when his shipmates made fun of her behind her back, he was quick to put them in their place, citing disrespect of a senior officer.

Which was partially true.

The other part of that truth was, he was protective of her.

Sturgis knocked on the open bulkhead and crossed the threshold without waiting for his welcome. He quickly shut the door behind him. "Hey man, we've got a ship to shore call from the Admiral holding on the line".

Harm immediately reached for the phone and put it on speaker. He prayed his findings were sufficient to close the investigation so he could get back home. He'd been on that carrier for five days.

Five whole days he'd been away from her. And to him, that was five too many.

"Admiral, good morning" He greeted.

"Morning Commander Rabb, Turner. I've got the SECNAV with me. Before we begin this conversation, the two of us would like to express our appreciation for a most expeditated and thorough investigation." AJ pinned the SECNAV with a look that dared him to voice any arguments.

Harm picked up on the tone in the Admiral's voice and knew to keep his responses to a minimum. He and the SECNAV were not on the friendliest of terms. He also knew the SECNAV's request to place him at the helm of the investigation must have been a bitter pill for the SECNAV to swallow.

AJ shuffled the stack of papers and located the report. "Admiral Morris and I reviewed your reports".

Harm held his breath and waited impatiently. The silence was nearly suffocating.

"He found no just cause for pilot error or neglect and has recommended the investigation be closed. Furthermore, Commander West can resume all previously assigned duties effective immediately".

It was all Harm could do not to shout victoriously.

"We will be sending over a formal letter of release within the hour. You may inform Commander West of our findings," AJ added.

"Thank you, sir". Harm and Sturgis said in unison.

"And Commander Rabb, please follow up with Colonel Mackenzie. She would appreciate your feedback on a case." AJ was careful with his tone in the presence of the SECNAV. After all, romantic relationships between two officers, regardless of rank, were forbidden within the same command. The last thing he wanted was to jeopardize his officer's careers before he had the opportunity to work out alternate placements.

Harm had worked with AJ long enough to read hidden messages. He couldn't get off the phone fast enough. "Yes sir, understood sir".

The SECNAV chose to speak at this time, thinly covering his irritation at having to grovel in gratitude. "Commander Rabb, Turner. On behalf of Commander West, I wanted to extend a word of appreciation at your efforts. AJ was…" he glanced over at the Navy SEAL, who could barely contain a smirk from creeping across his face... "correct in his insistence in leaving my name out of the investigation".

Harm and Sturgis exchanged mixed looks of surprise and smugness. Hell did freeze over! He cleared his throat, leaning closer to the handset and ensuring all amusement was vacant from his voice. "Thank you, sir. I am glad the Commander is allowed to resume his duties".

AJ couldn't help but enjoy the look of meekness that muddled the face of his superior. He'd lost count as to the number of times he'd been force to swallow his words and cater to the demands of the SECNAV. "Rabb, Turner, enjoy the flight home and a job well done. Good day!"

The line went dead, and Harm hung up the phone with a sigh of relief. Not only was his client absolved of any wrongdoing, but he could now get back to Mac.

"Time to get you on the next available helo. They are looking for a break in the weather this afternoon. It should afford you a short window out of here". He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You'll be home before you know it buddy. Give my regards to Mac".

He shook his hand. "Thanks Sturgis. I mean it."

"You bet! Now, let's tell our client the good news and get you packed". The duo exited Harm's quarters, both men's shoulders considerably lighter than they had been in the last few days.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0900

Mac's apartment

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

Mac was folding the laundry when the sharp ringing of her phone interrupted the quiet environment. Running to answer it before it could rouse her uncle, she snapped up the receiver without bothering to check the caller I.D.

"Colonel Mackenzie".

"Mac, it's AJ. The investigation was closed and Rabb will be returning home this afternoon. You should be expecting a call from him soon".

At this revelation, Mac felt her heart both speed up and drop. He was coming home!

I know they were happy with that news".

"Yes, and I told Rabb not to be at the office until Monday. This will give you the opportunity to tell him. Tonight". He was gentle, but firm. The simple truth was that Mac needed him. For a moment, he hesitated, but after deciding that what the SECNAV didn't know couldn't hurt him...he offered up a deal. "I'll arrange a few days of additional leave for the two of you, if needed".

"Thank you, sir, that's very kind. I…we…may need it". She blew out a breath. "I really need to get off here, then, so that I can call him. Goodnight, sir." She ended the phone call and sat down heavily on the arm of the couch, her nerves jumping all over the place.

_'Well, Mackenzie, it's now or never! Call him!'_

With the phone still in her hand, she quickly thumbed over the familiar number that held the first position on her speed dial list. 'Lord, please give me strength to make it through this phone call'. Nervously she pressed the 'call' button and waited anxiously for the lines to connect.

_Ringggg!…..Riinnnng!…Rinnnnnng!'_

Part of her wanted him to pick up, the other part wasn't so sure. It was this constant tug of war between her mind and heart that left her both confused and exhausted.

_Rinnnng!...Riiiin-_

Her heart fluttered as the call picked up and his familiar baritone came across the crackly line, but her anxiety or hopefulness, (Mac wasn't sure which one) was short-lived upon the realization that she'd received his voicemail.

'_You've reached the voicemail of Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. I hate I missed your call but leave me a quick message and I'll get back with you as soon as I can'_

She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat.

BEEP!

"Hey, the Admiral told me the investigation was over and you're headed home. I'm glad everything went well". She fought to steady her voice. "Harm, I really need to talk to you, so, um…. if it's not too much trouble, would you…would you please stop by the apartment? I'd appreciate it. Thanks". She hastily pressed the end button before she could say anymore.

A mixture of disappointment and shame washed over her. While she was sure he had enjoyed being on the carrier, the selfish part of her was glad he was returning home. Her heart longed to see him and to seek shelter in his strong arms. The wait was almost unbearable. She hugged herself, willing her nerves to quit jumping.

'_Whoa Marine! He's just a friend, remember?'_

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered as she picked up the laundry basket, intent on finishing the two loads she'd put in the dryer earlier. The world around her suddenly went sideways in a turbulent whirl, and she stumbled, catching herself by clutching the back of the leather loveseat. The basket hit the floor with a dull thud, scattering its contents at her feet. Mac bit back a groan when the blood rushed to her head, assaulting her with a terrible throbbing at her temples. The heat washed over here as a chill simultaneously settled into her bones, causing her to shake all over. Closing her eyes tightly, she took several deep breaths in an attempt to keep the bile from rising further into her throat. The last thing she wanted was another trip to the bathroom; she had already spent the past two mornings throwing her guts up. She didn't think her stomach muscles could handle much more. As the wave of dizziness and nausea began to abate, she sidestepped the tossed pile of laundry and slowly made her way to the kitchen for some aspirin. Removing the bottle from the medicine cabinet, her hands trembled as she struggled to uncap the bottle. Quickly she downed three caplets, knowing the only thing that could really make her feel somewhat human was a certain sailor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1830

Somewhere on the Beltway

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

Harm barely kept within the speed limit as he whizzed along the interstate. Once the weather had cleared, Harm was on the first helo out, and it wasn't a moment too soon. Sturgis had tolerated his incessant pacing with the patience of a saint. He gently reminded him that rubbing a hole in the floor would not get him to Mac any sooner. But Harm barely registered his words because his mind was already back at home with her.

The moment his feet hit ground, his phone dinged with a voicemail alert.

It was from Mac.

The sound of her voice, so hesitant and quiet, sent a wave of fear down his spine. His normally confident Marine sounded anything but confident. She sounded…lost. As though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. It was all the confirmation he needed.

Something was horribly wrong.

It had been an agonizingly slow flight into port, and now, with the desolation of her voice playing repeatedly in his mind... it seemed that his trip to Georgetown was even slower. Harm felt like it was his rotten luck that every slow person in the county had taken to the roads. His patience was beginning to wane.

_'Tell her as soon as you return home, Harm. Don't wait another second'_

Sturgis' words echoed in his head.

Harm knew he wouldn't..._couldn't_ wait any longer. So many years of confusion, trampled feelings, denial. Missed chances. Yet, the answer had been there all along.

He loved her.

And not just any kind of love. It was the type that endured eternity, involved building a home, and growing old together. The love that included having the family they desperately wanted.

He peeled into the parking lot of her apartment complex. He was relieved to see her 'vette in its usual spot. He quickly entered the building, foregoing the elevator. Elevators took too long, and he was anxious to see her. He strode towards her door with purpose, willing his nerves to settle as he softly knocked on the door.

No answer.

_'Her car is here, and it's late. She's usually home at this hour.'_

He knocked again.

No answer.

"Mac? You home? It's me".

He pressed his ear against the white veneer of the door, listening carefully for any sounds of movement on the other side. But he was only met with silence. Harm shook his head as he pulled his keys from his coat pocket. He really hated to intrude on her privacy.

_'What if she was asleep already?_

Knowing Mac, though, she often went to bed late. She had told him years prior she suffered from insomnia.

He fiddled with the key to her apartment and paused when a thought crossed his mind.

_'What if she...was in the bath?_

That would explain her not answering the door.

Unexpectedly, but deliciously appreciated, visions of Mac dressed in nothing more than a bathtowel meandered their way through his mind.

_'RABB! Get a hold of yourself!_'.

He decided to knock again.

Suddenly, the door opened...But not the door to Mac's apartment.

It was the one from across the hall.

"Commander…..?" the woman eyed him warily.

'S_he must be military, or at least a military wife, to have recognized my rank_'

Harm extended his hand. "Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. US Navy JAG Corps."

She dusted off her floured hands on the dishtowel thrown over her shoulder before returning his greeting. "I'm Stephanie Barnett, by the way". She motioned at Harm's insignia. "My husband is Lieutenant Commander Thomas Barnett, US Navy. Deployed on a carrier in the Indian Ocean".

His suspicions were confirmed. "I just returned from a carrier myself. _Patrick Henry_". He motioned toward her open door as children's voices filtered out into the hallway. "I'm sorry to interrupt your meal, ma'am".

The woman shook her head and smiled. "No problem at all. With two little ones, I'm quite used to the constant interruptions".

He motioned towards Mac's quiet apartment behind him. "I have been trying to get in touch with my partner, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, but, we keep missing each other". He took a deep breath. "I…I am concerned about her. She left me a voice message, asking me to stop by on my way home. She's not answering the door. Have you seen her this evening?"

Stephanie called over her shoulder into her apartment. "Thomas Jr.! Keep an eye on your brother. Don't let Joey get into the dog food!". She gave Harm an embarrassed smile as she stepped out into the hallway and shut the door. "I have a five-year-old who has the attention span of gnat and a one year old who thinks our dog's kibble tastes great"!

Harm couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. "Well, as my mother used to tell me...When you have a son, you sign yourself up for all sorts of things, including things you didn't know you signed up for".

She eyed him with a knowing smirk. "If you're anything like my husband, something tells me you kept your poor mother on her toes quite a bit while growing up".

"That would be correct, ma'am,". He turned the conversation back to his partner. "Mac's car is in the parking lot, but she's not answering her phone or her door. Have you noticed anything….out of the ordinary?"

Stephanie studied him for a long moment. As a general rule, she stayed out of the personal affairs of her neighbors. A military wife, she'd learned the less one knew or said, the better off they were. But the Colonel who lived across the hall from her was different. On more than one occasion, Mac had gone out of her way to help the often-frazzled mother of two. Yet she never expected anything in return. "I normally don't divulge my neighbor's personal information or whereabouts," she shared, "but…I feel I can trust you. This evening, there was a commotion in the hallway. When I looked to see what was going on, there were paramedics hauling a gurney out of her apartment. I couldn't see who it was. There was a lot of equipment and people gathered around". She shook her head in sympathy. "I'm sorry, that's all I know. I would have followed her to the hospital, but I have no one to watch my boys".

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he twisted the cover in his hands. "D-Do you happen to know w-where they were taking her?"

"Yes. Georgetown Medical Center. I heard them call it in on the radio".

"Thank you, ma'am. Again, sorry for the interruption," he made a motion to quickly leave but was stopped by Stephanie's hand on his arm.

"Please let her know I'm concerned about her. She's been so good to us".

He nodded. "Absolutely. You have my word. Evening, ma'am". He tipped his hat to her dashed towards the exit, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1900

Somewhere on the Beltway

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

_'Harm…. I…. I need to talk with you when you get back home. Please.'_

Her distressed voice, full of suppressed emotions haunted Harm's thoughts as he sped along the Beltway. He pressed the gas pedal further, the speedometer jumping up in response. He was going well over the speed limit, but it didn't matter. The only thing that did was getting to her. The rational side of him nudged its way through, forcing him to flip on the hazard lights as a precaution. The last thing he wanted or needed was to get pulled over.

_'Paramedics…. her apartment…Colonel'_

Stephanie's words repeated like an echo. He didn't remember anything she said after that. As soon as the words registered, fear begin to pool inside and spread throughout his body. It nearly paralyzed him in its wake.

Thwarted by a traffic light at a busy intersection, he grabbed his cell phone and punched the speed dial for AJ. He waited impatiently for the line to connect. It was just a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity before AJ's gruff voice came across the speaker. His response was broken and hard to understand through the static.

"Rabb, meet -me- -Georgeto- -Med- Cent- r-."

_'He must have been anticipating my call because he skipped right past the greeting' _

An unpleasant realization began to form at the edge of his mind.

"Sir, what's going on? Is Mac okay?" Harm pleaded.

"I will ex-lain -to- - -you- -get- -'ere".

The line was now filled with static and a chain of more broken words.

"IS MAC OKAY!?" Harm practically screamed into the phone. He didn't care about the tone of his voice, or his failure to address the Admiral appropriately.

"Rabb, she's- "

The line went dead, a victim of poor handoff between towers.

Frustrated, Harm threw his phone against the dashboard. He was confused, scared….and pissed as hell. If something had happened to Mac and the Admiral either knew about it or put her in danger...Harm wasn't sure his seventeen years of military discipline would keep him restrained. He swore violently and pressed the pedal even harder as panic seized his chest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

:: END CHAPTER SEVEN::


	10. Chapter 9

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Nine

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall 2017/Spring 2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2030

Georgetown Medical Center Admissions Office

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

"You're telling me, you have no patient by the name of Sarah Mackenzie? No one by that name has been admitted here?" Harm was nearly yelling in frustration at the poor clerk behind the counter. It was taking everything in him to keep from barging past the security doors. He would turn that hospital on its end if that's what it took to find her...AND the Consequences Be Damned!

The clerk typed Mac's name into the computer, and again, the database received no hits. "No sir, we don't…I'm sorry."

At that moment, an older woman in her fifties appeared from around the corner, a look of disapproval shadowing her face. It was obvious she'd been alerted to the raised voice of ONE unhappy Naval Commander just outside her office door. She peered over the bridge of her tortoise-shell glasses with thinly veiled disdain. "Is there a problem here, sir?"

_'Obviously there is, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here!'_

Harm bit back the retort that rested on his lips, choosing to release his frustration by tightening his grip on the counter. "I am trying to get information on a patient that was admitted here just a few hours ago. The Name IS Mackenzie, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah E. Mackenzie." He gestured toward the clerk, who sat quietly in her chair, awaiting direction from the supervisor. "This young lady here, is telling me there is no one by that name in the system."

She eyed him suspiciously. "And who...may I ask... are you... in relation to the supposed patient?"

He pulled himself up to his full height. "I AM Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., US NAVY JAG Corps". Although he didn't like to throw his judicial weight around, he would for Mac's safety and well-being. "I AM the patient's medical and durable power of attorney. I have also been her work partner and best friend for over six years".

_'And she's also the woman I love more than life itself'._

"Do you need her DOB, SSN, and Military ID number? Because I've got that". He dared them to challenge him about releasing information to "Unauthorized Individuals."

The supervisor clicked her tongue as she sized him up for a minute. She'd had many a family member breeze through her lobby and demand information on a patient. They did this without an ounce of credibility or authorization. She had seldom received as much as a "thank you", but there was something about this man…he was different. While he was obviously frustrated, with the situation, he had remained respectful. It was an element that did not escape her scrutiny. "And you're sure she came here, today?"

He could barely refrain from screaming.

_What did it take for these people to get it through their thick skulls!_?

"Yeeesss". He drew the one syllable out with thinly veiled annoyance. "She left me a voice mail asking me to come by her apartment. When I did, she did not answer. Her neighbor said the paramedics were at her apartment around 1800 and transported her here." He gestured toward the computer. "That was over four hours ago. I would assume she should have made it into the system."

"I understand," the supervisor said, but Harm wasn't convinced that she did. She motioned for the clerk to step aside and took a seat. After a few more clicks through the database, she addressed him with an apologetic smile.

"I'm really sorry sir, but it's apparent Ms. Mackenzie's neighbor was mistaken. There is no one by that name in our system. We have tried her DOB, her SSN, and there is no record of her admission." She scrolled through the database once more before returning her attention back to the near panicked Navy Lawyer. "Perhaps she was misinformed? Perhaps the EMT's transported her to Bethesda, instead."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, Bethesda is a 45-minute drive from here. Colonel Mackenzie's address is Georgetown. It would make no sense for her to go to a hospital further away." He was hanging on to his patience by a mere thread.

_'What does it take to get through to these idiots_?'

"Please, look again. It's Mackenzie. M-a-c-k-e-n-z-i-e"

A familiar voice boomed out from behind him. "Commander, if you'll come with me, please."

Harm spun around to find AJ waving at the clerk as he approached the desk.

_'Nice of you to show up, Admiral'. _

"My apologies, Ms. Perry. You are looking for the wrong patient." He showed the two women his visitor badge and jerked his eyes toward Harm. "I'll take it from here."

The supervisor gave a low huff of annoyance. "I see. In that case," she typed a few letters into the database, "Colonel O'Hara's been moved to a room now."

_Huh?_

A look of confusion furrowed Harm's brow as he worked through this new piece of information.

_'Colonel O'Hara? That's Mac's uncle! What does he have to do with this_?'

The clerk scribbled a number on a Post-It ® note, then passed it to AJ. "Across from the elevators take a right and there will be an intake desk. Make sure you check in."

"Thank you, ladies." AJ took the note from her outstretched hand, then grabbed Harm by the elbow, as he escorted them away from the desk. The security guard pressed the lock release and the double doors swung open. There was a long corridor with a set of elevators to the left and nurses' station to the right. The hallway was empty save for one lone janitor quietly mopping the floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Georgetown Medical Center

First Floor Waiting Area

"I don't appreciate being kept in the dark, especially where Mac is concerned. I have a feeling you know what's going on, Sir," Harm declared, unable to keep a bitter accusatory tone from creeping into his voice. And frankly, he didn't give a damn. It was obvious AJ had been withholding information. A fact that made him bristle.

"Yes, Commander...I do... But we will wait until the Colonel can join us," AJ replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. Between Mac's stubbornness and Harm's bullheadedness...it was no wonder AJ had migraines on a daily basis! He stopped at the nurse's station, handed the note to the station ward, then proceeded through another set of double doors. That opened into a small waiting room where Harriet and Bud stood to greet them. Little AJ snuggled sleepily against his father's shoulder. Upon seeing Harm, walk through the door, he immediately perked up.

"Unca 'arm!" he yelped, reaching for his godfather.

"Hey there little man! I've missed you so much!" He took little AJ in his arms and lifted him up. He ruffled his golden blonde hair before shifting the boy's weight to his hip.

AJ patted his face with a chubby hand. "Mommy says Aun' Mac is sad. Are you gonna make her better?"

Harm looked at Bud and Harriet with a mixture of curiosity and alarm. Mindful of his godson, whose eyes were wide in rapt attention, he worked to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "I don't know, little man. Bud, Harriet, what's going on?".

Just then, a physician walked through the doors. A clipboard with paperwork attached to it was in his hands. "Excuse me for interrupting, but I wanted to let you know that the patient is stabilized," he checked his watch, "and visiting hours end at 2100, so you'll want to get in there pretty soon." He smiled and jerked a thumb over to the station ward. "Amy is a drill sergeant when it comes to visiting hours. She runs a tight ship, so don't be surprised when she clears the room the minute both hands hit the nine."

Amy gave him a sour look as she rose from her chair. "Can't have my patients not sleeping because family members want to flap their gums until the wee hours of the morning." She held up her hands in defense. "Don't blame me. Doctor's orders, right?". With a playful smirk, she disappeared into the adjacent medical supply room.

The small group chuckled at the exchange, but Harm felt anything but jovial. He felt as though the punchline had been delivered, yet he'd been the brunt of the joke. He opened his mouth to speak, but AJ held up his hand. "Have a seat Harm. I will be back in just a minute, and I'll explain everything."

He slumped down into the nearest chair, his shoulders sagging from the weight of the unknown.

_What in the world was going on?_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2045

Georgetown Medical Center Intensive Care Unit

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

Mac gently stroked her uncle's hand, unwilling to take her eyes off the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He had briefly awoken since being admitted to his room. The drugs and sedatives he had been given were too much and he gave up the fight to stay awake. The past few hours had been a whirlwind of chaos that sucked what little energy she had from her. Upon returning from a quick but necessary trip to the grocery store, she found him lying unresponsive on the bathroom floor. She didn't even remember making the 911 call. All she remembered was trying to wake him up, and then suddenly four EMT's were barging through her door and she was pushed out of the way. It had been over two hours, and yet the adrenaline had just begun to wane, leaving her trembling in its wake. She rested her forehead against their joined hands. The guilt washed over her in uncontrollable waves; guilt at what could have happened had the paramedics not arrived so quickly…guilt at the thought of what could have happened had she spent just another minute longer at the grocery store. And with the guilt came the self-deprecating thoughts.

"I should have known something was wrong, Uncle Matt. I'm so, so sorry. I should have never left you alone! It's all my fault." She choked back the sobs that begged for release as she ran her thumb over the palm of his right hand. "I didn't even have you home two days and I caused you to end up in the hospital. What kind of caregiver am I?"

A soft knock on the door startled her. She looked up to find AJ standing at the threshold. Quickly she brushed the tears from her eyes in hopes that he wouldn't see them, and made a motion to stand. He waved her down as he entered the room. "Rabb's in the waiting room. Damn near threatened the poor clerk at the desk trying to get information on you."

The knowledge of his presence sent her nerves in outer orbit where the black abyss worked to suck her in.

Even from where he stood, AJ could see her hands trembling. But she refused to look up. Instead, she kept her head down, eyes fixated on the floor.

"It's time you told him, Mac."

She nodded in silence as she nervously threaded her fingers together in an attempt to still them. "I called him as soon as I got off the phone with you last night. But he didn't answer. I guess he was in flight. I left a message asking him to stop by on his way home, but then this happened, and…I don't…." She swiped angrily at the tears. "Sir, it's my fault Uncle Matt is here. He's here because of me!"

AJ was confused. "What are you talking about, Mac? When you called me, you said you found him unresponsive on the floor in the bathroom."

Swallowing thickly, she ran an agitated hand through her hair. "I was going to fix him some pancakes, but I didn't have enough ingredients. And Uncle Matt loves pancakes with chocolate chips. I-I-I wanted him to have his favorite pancakes. So I went to the store and, and I…I went through there as fast as I could I…I almost forgot the eggs and had to go back!" She was rambling at this point, but AJ just let her talk. He could see the chinks beginning to form in the walls she'd so carefully built around herself. It was time to let them fall.

"I got this feeling, you know, that feeling when something is not right, so I got back to the apartment as fast as I could. He-he wasn't on the couch where I left him. I ran into the bathroom and there he was…he was on the floor. Sir, he was so still, so p-pale, he was sweating so much, and his breathing was funny. I don't remember calling 911. But he's here all because of some damn eggs!" She slumped back in her chair, exhaustion driving the fight from her body. "I'm sorry, Sir, I don't know what just came over me. I'm usually more put together than this."

AJ squeezed her shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for, Mac. This is exactly why you need to let us in. You can't-" he paused, choosing his words as he worked to make them sound more like a request than an order, "You don't need to do this on your own. We're here for you. All you have to do is just let us in... even if it's only a little. You've got a whole team waiting on the sidelines."

Mac sniffled, then looked up at him. Her eyes were full of unshed tears. "I've been on my own my whole life, Sir. I don't, I don't really know how to do this."

"The first step is always the hardest, Mac...But it also brings the biggest reward, don't you think?" He regarded her for a long moment as she contemplated his advice. "Harm's out there waiting. If I make him wait any longer, I'm afraid he'll come in here, guns blazing. And lord knows I don't need him shooting up another ceiling!"

His comment drew a quiet laugh. "At least he will have a good lawyer to come to his defense." She gave him a tentative smile as he stepped aside to let her pass.

"He most certainly would, Mac." He looked at her. "Ready?"

She let out a shaky breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2045

First Floor Waiting Area

Georgetown Medical Center, Washington D.C.

Mac halted her footsteps when she'd reached the door to the waiting room, well aware of who was waiting on the other side. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then quietly pushed open the door, the cold rush of air soothing her irritated cheeks. At the sudden movement, Harm jumped to his feet, nearly crumpling at the sight of her. Relief washed over him to see that she was alive and unharmed. But it was evident in her body language that something was terribly wrong. Her eyes were bloodshot, skin pale with blotches of red scattered on her cheeks. She looked as though she'd lost ten pounds from her already thin frame.

"Mac! What happened? Are you okay? What's going on?" he bombarded her with questions as he swept her into a near-crushing hug. Overwhelmed at the sudden attention, she felt the panic begin to rise up in her throat. AJ laid a firm hand on his shoulder in a subtle gesture to reel the younger man in.

"Give her a moment, Harm. She'll answer your question as soon as she's given a chance." Mac flashed him a look of gratitude and took a seat next to Harm, with the Roberts' settling in across from her.

"This afternoon I came back from getting some groceries for the apartment. Uncle Matt was resting when I left…I…I didn't plan on being gone long at all. When I got back home, I found him…lying on the floor. He was pale…and shaking. His breathing was labored. I didn't know what else to do, so I called 911." She fought to keep herself together in front of everyone...especially since little AJ was watching her carefully.

Harm was thoroughly confused.

_'Colonel O'Hara is serving time in Leavenworth for stealing the Declaration of Independence. What's he doing in a hospital in D.C.?_'

Harriet's voice broke into his thoughts. "What did the doctors say?"

"They said his prescriptions were too strong, a bad cocktail so to speak. He wasn't getting enough oxygen. The O2 machine they sent home with us wasn't set high enough. That, combined with the long flight, was just too much and it caught up to him once I got him home." She shifted nervously in her chair and rubbed her clammy palms against the coarse denim of her jeans. She could feel Harm's unrelenting gaze boring into her. "The physician wants to keep him overnight to ensure his new settings and medications will be sufficient. He should be discharged sometime tomorrow morning." Mac risked a glance at them, willing her voice to sound convincing, even though she felt anything but that. "You guys should go home and rest. I've got everything handled, really."

She winced against the painful throb in her head, a move that did not go unnoticed by Harriet. She looked at the Admiral with concern, the unspoken request in her eyes.

_'Don't let her push him away, sir'._

"I'm not going anywhere." Harm announced firmly, giving no room for argument.

Harriet chose this moment to speak. "What can we help you with?" She knew from experience that leaving the power of decision and delegation to the recipient was the most helpful gift.

"Nothing, really. I'm fine. I appreciate you all coming down, but we'll be ok." She managed a small smile as AJ climbed down from his perch on Bud's lap and moved over to her cautiously, his eyes full of unasked questions. She pulled him onto her lap, nuzzling his baby fine hair.

"Aun' Mac, I don't wike hospwuls," he told her quietly. "I got an owie here, 'member?" He pointed to the scar on his chin from when he fell off the jungle gym at daycare a few weeks earlier. The fall resulted in a busted chin, several stitches, and a stout cognac for Harriet.

Mac kissed the top of his head, twiddling her fingers with his. "I don't like hospitals either, baby".

"Ma'am, we'll come by to check on you once you get him home. Make a list of what you need help with and we'll be glad to step in." Bud bent down to give her a quick hug, then held out a hand for his son. "Come on buddy, it's past your bedtime. Say goodnight to everyone."

"Thank you, Bud and Harriet. You are truly wonderful friends." She set her godson gently on his feet and leaned forward to look into his eyes. "You be a good boy for me, okay? I love you big!" She held her arms out wide to show him how much.

Little AJ nodded solemnly, then motioned her forward with his index finger. He gave her a light peck on the lips. "I wuv you too, Aun' Mac!"

Her heart constricted as he took his place between Bud and Harriet, each holding a chubby little hand. Her friends had everything she so desperately wanted but seemed to be just out of her reach; a solid marriage, someone to grow old with, and a beautiful child to share her life with. A pang of envy washed over her when they left the room. Little AJ clumsily waved bye before the doors shut behind them.

"Mac, I believe you owe Harm an explanation. He needs to know." AJ glanced down the hall at the retreating family. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee." He stood, then fixed Harm with a look that meant business. "Rabb, take care of her." And then he was gone, leaving the two of them alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No sooner had the double doors shut when Harm pulled his chair in front of her, gently taking her hands in his. The warmth from his touch traveled along her fingers, and seeped into her entire body. "Mac? What's going on?" A sick feeling developed in the pit of his stomach. "Don't shut me out, please" he pleaded.

She met his troubled gaze with red-rimmed eyes. "Earlier, in the week, I got a call from Leavenworth concerning my uncle. They said he'd been sick, but they just assumed it was the stomach flu. When he didn't improve, they ran a series of tests. They were concerned about the possibility of cancer. When the results came back in, it came back…p-positive". Her voice caught and she looked away in an attempt to get her emotions under control. "Harm, my uncle…. He's dying…."

He felt like he'd been shoved into a pool of ice. The words numbed him to his core: crushing and threatening to remove all the breath from his body. "Oh Jesus…Sarah...I am sorry, so, so sorry". He squeezed her hands. "How…how much time?"

"Maybe two months. Three, if he's lucky." She glanced down the hallway towards her uncle's room, a fresh batch of tears coming to the surface. She nervously picked at a thread in her jeans. "But…I think it will be sooner."

"They're not going to try chemotherapy?"

She shook her head, nervously picking at a thread in her jeans. "No, it's spread…ev-everywhere. It's moving to his lymph nodes. He's going, Harm. Fast." Her heart hurt too much to keep the tears in anymore and the dam burst. He sat back in his chair and pulled her into his arms, letting the grief pour out as he held her against his chest. She buried her head into his shoulder and sobbed, the walls she had built around herself crumbling into an ocean of grief.

His heart ached at the sound of her cries. It didn't matter how long she needed him; he was there to stay, forever.

Neither Harm nor Mac noticed that AJ had been standing outside the double doors, smiling with content, at the sight of his officers.

_'God I hope those two realize what they have between them'_.

Deciding that another stroll down the hallway wouldn't hurt, he walked away.

Harm caught a glimpse of his CO as he walked away, knowing he had seen him in an intimate embrace with Mac. But he didn't care. No amount of regulations or charges would be enough to keep him away from the woman who had captured his heart so many years ago. The past few years had been hard enough on her emotionally. All she needed to know right now was that he was there for her, not just in that moment, but for all the ones that would come soon thereafter.

Several long minutes later, Mac's sobs had subsided to occasional hiccups as she struggled to get herself together.

He reached for the box of Kleenex on the table next to them, pulling out a few tissues. "Feel better?"

Her voice was tearful but steady, "Yeah. Thanks." She looked at his shirt and sighed. "Oh Harm, I messed up your shirt."

He glanced down, noticing the dark splotches on his uniform where her face had been pressed against it. But he didn't care; all he cared was that he was here, with her. He'd take a thousand more smudges on his shirt if it meant holding her in his arms the rest of his life. He shrugged, "It doesn't matter", then tucked her even closer. "I'll always be there for you." He smiled into her eyes, cradling the right side of her face with his left hand. It was a gesture that had become so familiar to her over the years, one that she took much comfort in.

"Mac….why didn't you tell me sooner? I came by your apartment the night we flew out to the _Henry_, but you were gone."

"Harm, I didn't want to burden you. And I knew the investigation was too important, especially with who it was. Besides," she blew out a breath, "there was nothing you could have done, honestly."

" I would have been on the next available flight. You shouldn't have had to deal with that by yourself". He was frustrated, not with her, but with the situation. "I asked the Admiral if you were okay; he pretty much lied to me. He wouldn't tell me anything. But I knew something wasn't right. I nearly drove Sturgis crazy worrying about you. He couldn't wait for me to be on the first helo home!"

A rueful smile graced her beautiful features as she reached out to touch his cheek. "I know, Flyboy. That's why I didn't tell you. I asked the Admiral to keep it quiet." She sighed, dropping her hands to cover his own. She threaded her fingers with his. "Harm, please don't be angry with him. He booked my flight, found me a place to stay at this beautiful B&B. He even went so far as to arrange transportation the entire time I was there. He took care of everything. I don't know what I would've done without him stepping in."

The resentment Harm held towards his CO slowly dissipated with her words. He didn't like it, but he understood. Hell, if the roles had been reversed, he doubted seriously that he would have not made the same decision.

"I was going to tell you when you got back. It's why I called. But then this happened…" She trailed off as the ache in her temples returned, and she closed her eyes against the painful throbbing.

Concern crawled its way back into his voice. "Mac? Are you feeling okay?".

With his penetrating gaze upon her, she had no choice but to be honest. Well, as honest as she could be given the circumstances. "I've got a bad headache. But it's nothing that some ibuprofen can't take care of. I keep forgetting to take some." She went to stand, but dizziness suddenly overcame her and she swayed on her feet. His quick reflexes caught her before she could lose her balance. His concern was immediate as he took in the unnatural paleness of her skin and hands that trembled.

"Mac, what the hell is going on!?" Harm exclaimed, panic thick in his voice.

"I just stood up too fast, that's all." She attempted to dismiss his concern as she didn't need him worrying unnecessarily.

Harm kept a firm arm around her waist, unwilling to let her go. "Like hell it is! Have you eaten anything today?"

She shook her head in response, leaning heavily against him despite her best efforts. She was beyond exhausted. "I tried, but…I wasn't able to keep it down."

"When was the last time you ate anything substantial?"

Mac shrugged. "I'm not really sure, I guess before I flew out to Leavenworth."

"That was almost a week ago! No wonder you feel so bad!" His resolve to take care of her grew exponentially. There was no way he was leaving her side, not now, not ever. "Mac, you need to eat something or you'll end up sick!".

"I know that!" she snapped, becoming irritated at his incessant questioning. She knew he was only trying to be helpful, but she was exhausted, and her mind just couldn't take anymore. She covered her face with her hands. "I'm so sorry, Harm. You didn't deserve that." Embarrassed, she tried to put a little distance between them.

Harm gently removed her hands, then tucked a finger under her chin. "Hey, it's okay. You've been dealing with a lot." He flashed her his infamous smile so that she would know he really meant it. "Do you think you could eat something from the cafeteria? Maybe soup or something else that would be easy on your stomach?"

She nodded. "I'll try".

He tightened his hold, refusing to let her back away. "You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of. Mac, you are one of the strongest people I know".

He watched as the blush flashed across her cheeks. She always had such a hard time accepting compliments!

_'Probably because she doesn't get them often, Rabb! You've done a consistent job of dismissing her talents, especially in the courtroom!_

He made it a point to remember to point out her abilities and compliment her more, even if it meant opening himself up to her more.

Her soft voice and even softer kiss on his cheek broke into his thoughts. "Thank you, Harm".

"I've only said what's true, Mac, you just don't give yourself enough credit. Now, let's go find the Admiral and get something in your stomach." With her tucked securely against his side, they vacated the waiting room, temporarily abandoning the load of stress both had been carrying for the past week.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER NINE::


	11. Chapter 10

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Ten

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall 2017/Spring 2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Three Weeks Later

1800

JAG Headquarters

Mac's Office

Falls Church, VA

Mac had just finished writing her report on the Davenport case when a knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in!" She knew who was on the other side of the door without even having to look up; she felt his presence wherever she went, and her uncanny ability to know his whereabouts baffled even herself. It was an aspect of their relationship that she quit trying to dissect, choosing to blame it on the visceral connection they shared. Removing another file folder, Mac sighed in relief as she saw that the stack was quickly dwindling. After returning from Leavenworth with her uncle, she discovered that AJ had already submitted her request for FMLA. Much to his initial protest, she had asked to work three half-days a week. It gave her an opportunity to get out of the stifling environment that tended to surround the apartment, and provided privacy to Matthew when the hospice caregivers came by to bathe him.

Like clockwork, Harm entered a moment later, his overcoat and briefcase in hand. He flashed her the infamous smile that set her heart trembling and ignited a rush of heat to her cheeks….

_'And other places_!'

She shook her head as if to clear the residual thought, then motioned for him to sit.

"What can I do for you, sailor?"

"Well, I was wondering if the two of you would want to come over for dinner this evening?" He fidgeted in his chair. "Of course, if he isn't feeling up to it, it's okay." He held his breath, hoping she would accept his invitation.

The anxiousness was unmistakable in his voice, and it made Mac feel even worse knowing she would have to decline. Due to their respective caseloads and ongoing investigations, not to mention her uncle's rapidly declining health, they had been like ships passing in the night. She desperately wanted to spend some time with him, but her obligations to her uncle and her job took priority. "Oh Harm, I wish I could. It's just that-."

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I know, it's okay, Mac, really it is. In that case, I need to be getting home, and so do you. It's late." He pulled on his overcoat. "Time to pack it up, Ninjagirl. I will walk you out."

Mac turned to clean up her folders and move them to the metal filing cabinet behind her. Harm found himself unable to keep from staring at her graceful form as she puttered about the office. She looked at him over her shoulder as she worked. "How would you feel about coming by my apartment instead? We don't have much in the way of groceries, but there's this really good Indian restaurant just down the street from me. I'll swing by on the way home and order takeout."

Just the thought of spending time with her filled his heart with joy. "Better yet, how about you call it in and I'll pick it up? I need to stop by my apartment and change anyway. No need for you to get out in this mess any more than you have to."

Indeed, the weather had taken a nasty turn after the noon hour. The temperature outside had dropped considerably, such that the rain had transformed to a wintery mix of slushy ice and snow.

His thoughtfulness touched her heart, and the sincerity filled her eyes when she accepted his offer. "That would be really nice, thanks Harm." She shut off her monitor, then snapped her briefcase closed before coming around to the front of her desk. He removed her overcoat and matching wool scarf from the rack, motioning for her to turn so he could slip it over her arms. She maneuvered the over-sized buttons into their respective holes, starting from the bottom and working her way to the top. Engrossed in what she was doing, she failed to notice that Harm had wrapped the wool scarf around her neck, tucking the ends into the upper shoulder flap of her coat. His fingers accidentally brushed the slope of her neck, and she froze. Her heart began to thump erratically in her chest, and she was certain it would leap right out of her throat and go running across the empty bullpen. Her eyes traveled up to meet his. The look in his eyes nearly drove the very breath from her body.

She had only seen him look at her like this twice. The first time occurred when she showed up on the docks at Norfolk, dressed in Harriet's spare uniform. She had unintentionally looked like Harm's murdered girlfriend, Diane Schonke. The fact that she held an uncanny resemblance to the aforementioned deceased had remained an uncomfortable point of contention in their relationship. In the years since, Mac had lost count as to the number of times she'd replayed their first kiss in her head. But no matter how many times she did so, she always wound up more confused than before. Who was he really kissing that night? Some days she was convinced that he was kissing Diane goodbye, and others she felt that maybe, just maybe, he was kissing her. The second time she had caught him looking at her with something indecipherable in his eyes occurred during his temporary assignment as acting JAG. He had toppled backwards in the Admiral's chair, and for a few days afterwards, he seemed to look at, and regard her, in a very different way. And it was the way he looked, at her then that was exactly, as he looked at her now. There was something so familiar, yet unfamiliar in his eyes…..

The moment his fingers grazed her soft skin, a jolt of electricity went straight through his veins, setting all forty-six miles of nerves in his body on fire. The years he spent as a fighter pilot managing a 40,000-ton F-14 within his hands had left his reflexes tight, fingertips ultrasensitive. This, combined with the instinctual way he felt and heard every move and breath she took as though it were his own, allowed him to feel the erratic pulse beating beneath his fingertips.

She wanted to say something, oh how she did! But her brain was too fuzzy to form a coherent thought, especially when his fingertips traveled up past her chin to rest, almost featherlike, on her lips. This only served to send her heart skittering even more, and she breathed deep to settle it back into its rightful place within her chest. She watched, her eyes searching his, as his face inched closer to hers.

A movement out of the corner of her eye made her jump. Somebody had just entered the glass doors that separated the bullpen from the elevator corridor.

It was the Admiral.

Both instinctively put some distance between each other.

AJ stopped short when he noticed the pair just inside Mac's office. "Commander? Colonel? What are you still doing here?"

"Oh, uh…we were, uh, I was, um, just checking with the Colonel before I went home for the evening, sir. I uh, thought I would take her to din- I mean, her and Colonel O'Hara to dinner." He finished lamely, "Tonight."

He could kick himself!

'_Get it together, Rabb!_

AJ's eyes flicked between the two. From the blush creeping across Mac's face to the way Harm shifted his weight nervously, it was obvious that he had interrupted something.

_'I really don't want to know. The less I know, the better off we all are'._

"Is that so, Commander? Colonel?"

Mac nodded solemnly, her demeanor stoic. "Yes, sir" as she gestured towards her briefcase. "I was working late on the Davenport case when the Commander stopped by to offer dinner. He waited on me to close up my office so he could walk me to my car. We were just leaving, sir."

By far, Mac was more eloquent and convincing in her delivery despite her shifty gaze. The seriousness with which she validated Harm's statement nearly caused him to laugh out loud. AJ decided to make them squirm a bit more; after all, what were Admiral's privileges for if he couldn't have fun with them every now and then? He deliberately walked closer to them until he was roughly a foot away, never breaking his gaze. "I assume you both will be at work in the morning, _ON TIME_". He emphasized the last two words. It took all of his training, as a NAVY SEAL, to keep any hint of amusement from his voice. He could swear a fine bead of sweat popped up just beneath Harm's hairline!

Harm swallowed thickly. "Yes sir, that would be a correct assumption." What was it about his CO's mere presence that made him feel like he was back in his elementary school principal's office for trying to plant a kiss on the cutest girl in his first-grade class?

AJ took a minute more to scrutinize them before deciding he wouldn't be able to contain his laughter much longer. "Very well, then. Goodnight Colonel, Commander." He strode past them to his office to retrieve the folder he'd forgotten regarding the McManning case. On second thought...if the exchange that just occurred was any indicator, he'd need to figure out what he was going to do with them sooner rather than later. "I swear, they are going to send me to an early grave" he muttered as he grabbed the list of options regarding assignments for the two lawyers he'd just interrogated.

Mac and Harm risked glances at each other, then decided they'd better beat a hasty retreat before the Admiral could come back and ask them any more questions. Automatically placing a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her out of the building and across the parking lot. He waited while she started the car and buckled herself in.

"Um, I'll see you in about thirty, is that okay?" Harm was nervous once more, afraid she'd backed out following the exchange that had occurred.

"You'd better be on time, Flyboy. Marines don't like to be kept waiting, especially if it's at the hands of a squid!" She gave him a full smile, then motioned towards her phone. "I'm going to call it in before I get on the road. No need to wait on me."

He shook his head. "For you, I'll be early." He went to close the door, then stopped. "And I'll always wait on you, as long as it takes." He let the words hang in the air between them for a brief moment before gently shutting the door, leaving a gaping Marine behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1930

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

"There, now you've got a fresh set of sheets on the bed, and your pajamas should be just about dry." Mac helped him to a sitting position on the side of the hospital bed that the palliative care company had brought. She handed him his cane, then set his slippers next to his feet. The buzzer for the dryer went off, alerting her that the load of laundry was done. "Ah! Speak of the devil! Let me go get the load out before it wrinkles."

He caught her arm as she turned to leave for the laundry room off the kitchen. "Thanks, Sarah."

A puzzled expression muddled her features. "What for?"

He gestured towards himself in one sweeping motion. "I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate all you are doing for me. I know it's not easy, this." He tugged on her arm gently, indicating his desire for her to sit.

"Oh, Uncle Matt" she sighed, perching herself on the edge of the mattress, "you know I'd lay down my life for you. I'd do anything you need me to do". She moved to bracket his face, her hands gently tracing the fine wrinkles. "I'm honored I get the chance to do something for you in return…you know, show you I wasn't a waste of your time."

Matthew grabbed her hands where they rested on his cheeks. "Sarah, you never were a waste of my time. Never could be, even if you tried. My only regret is the time I wasted on the unimportant things. I love you," he squeezed her hands, then affectionately tweaked her nose.

"I love you, too, Uncle Matt."

He pulled her close, in the tightest hug, he could manage given his weakened state. Laying her head against his chest, she heard his heart quietly sound out its rhythm, knowing that one day very soon, it would go silent. They stayed that way until a sharp knock at the door forced them apart.

"Better go let that handsome sailor of yours in before he breaks down the door".

She blushed profusely as she went to answer it. "Uncle Matt! He's not mine!" She quickly ran a hand over her hair to smooth it down, then opened the door, a full smile covering her face at the sight of him. "You're two minutes early, quite a record for a squid!" She stepped aside to let him in.

"I'm always on time, I'll have you know! It's your clock that's off!" He poked her in the arm.

"Uncle Matt!" Mac whined in mock protest.

Matt grabbed his cane and hobbled over to the pair. "Don't look at me!". He shook Harm's hand warmly. "Good to see you again, Commander. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Sir, and please, it's just Harm." He held up the bag of take-out. "I come bearing gifts."

"Harm it is, and in that case, it's Matt," he grinned, "or you can me trouble, but absolutely none of this 'Colonel' or 'sir' business!"

"Yes, si-Matt" he complied, barely catching himself in time.

Mac took the bag of food from his hand. "I'll go and plate this up. It won't take but just a minute."

"What's in that?" Matt pointed to the grocery sack in Harm's left hand.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Mac!" He pulled out his pair of neon-print lobster oven mitts, holding them up with a big grin. "I thought these might come in handy touching those hot dishes." Of course, she wouldn't need them as the food was in Styrofoam containers, but when he spied them laying on his kitchen counter, he couldn't pass up a chance to tease her with them.

Mac rolled her eyes as she took the gaudy mitts from his outstretched hands. "I knew you would find some excuse to bring these hideous things! Yuck!" Laughing, she disappeared into the kitchen to get the food plated and served.

Harm turned to face the elder Colonel. "How is she doing, Matt?"

"I wouldn't say there's been a significant improvement in her eating and sleeping habits, but she's holding her own. We both are." He sighed as he watched her putter around the kitchen, her slim figure partially obscured by the refrigerator. "I just hate seeing that haunting look in her eyes. Has she said much to you in regards to my situation?"

Harm's expression clouded. He knew what Matt was referring to; he'd seen it one too many times. He saw it when her ex-husband came back to threaten her, when she was taken hostage by the stalker and Dalton was killed, when Chloe was being abused, and when the Roberts' daughter had passed away. The latter, by far, brought the deepest pain. He knew Mac somehow blamed herself, for baby Sarah's death, as though her very name had somehow tainted the precious life. A life snuffed out before it ever got started.

There was not a doubt, in his mind, she was going to make a wonderful mother one day. It was evident she loved Chloe and little AJ as though they were her own flesh and blood. For now, he kept the images of his children, _their_ children, locked up safe in his heart. His eyes tracked her every move: the way she unconsciously tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear as it shifted with her movements, the little shake of her head when she couldn't find the utensil she was looking for…

"Harm? You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, I'm fine…I…" he trailed off, unable to take his eyes off her.

'_What was it the Colonel had asked him? He couldn't remember..._'

"If you're gonna stare at her like that, the least you can do is pull your waterlogged head out of your six and ask her out."

Harm's head snapped up instantly at the Colonel's suggestion, shock evident on his face.

Matt resisted the urge to slap the Naval lawyer senseless. "You can't fool this old Marine. Just ask my niece, who seems to have all your attention." Merriment danced in his eyes at the open-mouthed man. He knew his niece and Harm loved each other, they just needed a gentle shove- okay-a forceful shove, to get them to admit it. "Close your mouth, son. I could land a C-130 in it!"

Harm gulped, his heart beating fast in his chest at the thought of how protective Colonel O'Hara was of her. Even though he was sick, he was still a Marine, and you never wanted to cross a Marine the wrong way! Before the two could say anymore, Mac appeared in the kitchen doorway and announced dinner was ready.

"Guess we'll have to finish this conversation later, eh?" Matt whispered to Harm, clapping him on the shoulder before making his way to the table.

Harm chuckled nervously, resisting the urge to tug at the collar of his shirt. When had it gotten so hot in here?

"Are you two loafs done swapping your manly stories yet?" she teased them as she pulled out a chair for her uncle and took his cane.

"Well I don't know about the manly part, but I do know we were engaging in one very interesting story, weren't we, Harm?"

Harm choked on his sip of water.

Instantly, Mac was by his side, patting him on the back. "Easy Sailor, you ok?"

Matt watched the scene unfold with a bemused smile.

"Yeah, I'm 'kay. Just went down- 'rong way. Thanks" he croaked.

"You never answered my question, Harm."

"Uh…*cough* …yes, uh *cough*, yes we were" he sputtered and took another drink of water.

Mac grated some peppercorn over her salad, then handed it to her uncle. "You know…I don't think I want to know what specific story, that is."

Matt chuckled. "Well then, don't ask and you won't."

"You're awful, Uncle Matt!" she cried out, playfully swatting him on the nose with the lobster mitt.

Harm stuffed a wad of lettuce, in his mouth, grateful for the distraction. He felt the blush creep into his face at the Colonel's comment, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

"Oh come on Sarah, I'm not that bad!'

"Yes...you most certainly are, Uncle Matt, and you know it! Now shut your trap and let's eat, Mister."

"Yes ma'am!" Matt gave her a mock salute before ducking as a wet noodle went flying in his direction.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

LATER THAT EVENING

Well into the tenth hour of the evening, the food was all but gone, with dishes pushed to the side and the two men engaged in swapping 'manly' stories (as Mac liked to refer to them). She stood up to clear the dishes when Harm reached across the table to stop her.

"Leave those, Mac. I'll clean up."

"Harm, you already went out of your way to pick up dinner _and _you paid for it. I can do the dishes."

He refused to budge. "Let me do this for you, tonight. Go spend time with Matt. It won't take but just a few minutes. Pick out a movie while you're waiting."

She shook her head. "Really, Harm, you've already done so much for us tonight."

"Would you stop being so stubborn, Jarhead!"

"I am NOT being stubborn, Squid!"

He gave Matt pleading looks for backup

"Let Harm take care of this and we'll go in the living room and pick out a movie. I think we can squeeze one in before it gets too late."

Mac pinned him with a look. "You're supposed to be on my side, Uncle Matt."

Matt tossed his napkin on the table with a resigned sigh. "Well, baby duck, it's obvious that we're at an impasse here."

Mac scrunched her face in confusion as she set her plate back down. "What do you mean?"

Matt shrugged. "It's obvious Sarah…we just don't...see…eye to eye." He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully, hoping she would catch on.

She remained confused for a moment longer until memories of her childhood game with him came to mind. Her face lit up in joyful surprise. "OH!" She quickly vacated her chair to stand in front of him, stooping so she was face level with him, hands on her knees. "So, just how are we going to fix this?"

Matt shook his head. "Looks like we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way." Dusting his hands off, he paused to square his shoulders, then slowly inched forward towards her. "You know the rules of the game."

"Uh huh." Mac moved until she met him halfway, lining up her right eye with his right eye.

Harm watched the scene with a mixture of mild confusion and amusement at the little game they were obviously playing. It lifted his heart to see the joy on their faces.

"So, do you think you're going to see…eye to eye…with me, Uncle Matt?" She had a mischievous smile as she moved her hands, to his shoulders, to steady herself.

"Ohhhhh nooo. It will be the other way around. Youwill be the one to see….eye to eye…with me." He covered her hands with his and they were so close Harm could barely fit a piece of paper between them.

"Never!"

"First one to blink, loses" Matt added, focusing on the challenge at hand.

The two had their right eyes pressed against each other in a staring competition, daring each other to blink first.

"Not a chance!" Mac squared her shoulders, her face set firm.

He placed his hands behind his head as he leaned back, in his chair, mocking her. "I can do this all day."

"Well so can I! I learned from the best. Give it up, already!"

Neither refused to back down or blink.

They were silent a few seconds longer. Then, a huge grin began to spread across Matt's face.

Mac's mouth started twitching despite her best efforts to keep a straight face. "You're cheating Uncle Matt! You're fluttering your lashes and tickling my eye!"

"Oh, so now you're accusing me of cheating?"

"YES!" she went to poke him, in his ribcage, but his quick reflexes thwarted her attempt and trapped her hand against his chest.

"Now THAT'S cheating!"

"Sounds like a personal problem!" Mac retorted, still not blinking. Truth be told, she was beginning to lose the battle. But she refused to back down. No way was she giving up so easily!

"So, Harm, I hope you're taking notes. This is a great way," he blindly gestured to Mac as the two continued to face off, "to win an argument with Sarah. It's easy to beat her. Especially if," he nudged a hair closer, "you start batting your eyelashes" he grinned mischievously, "like this," and he very lightly fluttered his lashes against hers.

Mac couldn't contain herself anymore and burst out laughing, blinking in the process.

"I win!" Matt shouted victoriously. "See?"... he grinned, "You just can't beat me, Sarah. How long have we been doing this? 30 years? When are you going to learn your place?"

"As long as it takes!" She hugged him fiercely, then dropped a kiss on his cheek. "For the record, I let you win."

"Uh huh! Now go start that movie before we all fall asleep waiting!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2400

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

It was snowing thickly as the movie credits rolled on the TV screen. Stretching his muscles, he came to his feet. A soft smile crossed his face at the sight of Mac and Matthew snuggled up in the hospital bed. Hating to wake her but not wanting to leave without her knowing, he gently shook her shoulder.

"Mac, it's midnight, I'm going to head home now" he whispered softly, his fingers unable to refrain, from tucking a stray lock, of hair behind her ear. Her hair was incredibly soft and he felt a rush, at the thought, of running his fingers through the silken tresses. He settled on brushing the back of his hand against her cheek instead.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she came to. "The movie over?"

He nodded, his hand trailing down to rest on her upper arm. "Yeah, and I wanted to let a sleepy Marine know I'm leaving."

She yawned again, then vacated the bed, careful not to wake Matthew. "I'm sorry I fell asleep".

"Don't worry, Mac. You needed the rest." Satisfied she was coherent, he went to the closet to retrieve his coat and muffler.

Catching a glimpse of the snow outside, Mac walked over to her balcony door and observed the white city beneath her. Whatever tire tracks left by motorists had long been covered up, the amber glow of the streetlights casting an eerie hue over the still-falling snow. The streets were completely impassable. He was most certainly NOT going home tonight, if she had any say in the matter. She turned back to where he stood by the closet, buttoning up his coat.

"You're not getting out in this weather."

He raised an eyebrow. "Mac, I'll be fine. I've driven in snowy weather before. Plus, my SUV is all-wheel drive. I know better than to drive my 'vette in this."

She shook her head emphatically. "I don't care. It only takes one wrong turn or some idiot not paying attention. You're not leaving."

He appreciated her sincerity, but he glanced over at Matthew's sleeping form. He didn't want to give the Colonel the wrong impression. While his heart desired the woman in front of him more than he could ever demonstrate...he meant what he said earlier that evening. He was willing to wait. She was worth it.

Mac followed his gaze, understanding crept into her mind. "Uncle Matt wouldn't want you out in this, either." She touched his arm to draw his attention back to her. "Please, Harm, stay. You can take my bed. You're too long for the couch."

Harm shook his head. "No way, Marine. I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

"You're not. I'm offering. There is a difference." She sighed. "Besides, I've been sleeping on the couch since he came home from the hospital. I can keep a closer eye on him this way."

He gazed at her for a long moment, and seemingly comfortable with her honesty, he agreed. "Okay Marine. I'll grab my sea-bag from the SUV, and then you can lock up for the night."

She turned down the covers and removed an extra quilt from the linen closet. The temperature outside dropped considerably since they finished dinner; as such, it had grown chilly in her room. Plumping up the pillows, she took a step back to observe her work. Satisfied, she turned on the bedside lamp and exited the room, switching off the overhead light.

Harm returned at that moment, seabag in one hand and the other tucked under his armpit, trying to warm it up.

"You were right, it is really slick out there. I nearly busted my butt when I stepped out the front door. I didn't see any salt trucks on the road, either. I doubt they will have the roads clear, by the time, we have to go to work in the morning."

She removed his bag from his hand so he could shrug out of his coat. "Thank you, Harm. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you on the way home."

He touched her cheek, letting his hand linger for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere, Marine. I mean that."

Mac grabbed his hand and planted a kiss on his palm so brief he wasn't quite sure she'd done it. "Now get some rest, sailor!" She shoo'd him in the direction of her bedroom.

"Night, Ninjagirl" As he climbed into bed, a smile crossed his face as he allowed dreams of one very special Marine to invade his mind and carry him to sleep….

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER 10::


	12. Chapter 11

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Eleven

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall/Winter 2017.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two Weeks Later

1400 MT

JAG Headquarters

Mac's Office

Falls Church, VA

"Thank you so much for your help, I really appreciate it." Mac jotted down some numbers as a knock sounded at the door. Harm poked his head around the corner. She motioned at the phone, holding up her index finger to indicate she'd be just a minute. He nodded, shutting the door quietly behind him and tucking his long form into her guest chair. "Yes, that would be perfect," she slipped an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she listened intently to the caller.

Harm welcomed the opportunity to study her; after all, it wasn't too often that he was afforded the chance, and he couldn't help but stare. Although he saw her nearly every day, he never missed the subtle changes in her, such as when she swapped out her earrings, tried a new eyeshadow, or styled her hair differently. The latter was by far his favorite change. He certainly hadn't missed the fact she was beginning to let her hair grow out. In more than six years of partnership, Mac had never had long hair. While she carried a short style well and he knew it was easier to maintain due to military regulations, he much preferred her with longer hair. He'd have to remember to tell her how nice it looked. With the sun highlighting the golden hues in her chestnut hair, he didn't think he'd seen a more beautiful woman in all his life.

_'Hell, she could walk in with no makeup on, dressed in sweats and she'd still be a knock-out.'_

Mac continued to converse with the person on the other end of the line, oblivious to his intense staring.

Unlike many women, she wore a minimal amount of makeup. She wore just enough to accentuate her features, but not so much that she looked like a completely different person when not wearing it. Most of his girlfriends had taken to the makeup counter like Bob Ross to a paintbrush. They did not realize that less was more, and it often bugged him. He recalled a previous girlfriend who had plastered herself against him and left more than her perfume behind. He'd lost count of the number of times he had to use a stain remover to get tan foundation imprints out of his white uniform shirts. But with Mac? Never.

"Oh absolutely! It can be a real challenge at times, but, I am usually able to work through it," she supplied, jotting down a few more notes, her animated gestures lost on Harm. "Yes, I believe so." She switched the handset to the other ear, then mouthed at Harm.

_'Sorry!_'

He shrugged, waving her silent apology away. He was in no hurry for his voyeuristic opportunity to end. God, she was beautiful. He wondered if she had any clue.

"Alright, sounds good to me. I'll send it over in just a minute….yes ma'am, great! Thanks again!"

Mac hung up the phone, then turned to address Harm with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, I've been waiting on this report for weeks now and they were able to get it to me just this second." She logged into her email. "And there it is. Finally!"

"How's your day going, Marine?"

Tossing the pen she had been using into the glass jar beside her desk lamp, she shrugged. "Not bad... can't complain. How did court go this morning?"

"Well, I won against Sturgis, so that's always a plus!" He grinned victoriously as he leaned back in his chair. "Old bubble-head thought he had this one in the can, but thanks to my expert investigative skills," he jerked a thumb toward himself, "I was able to pull in a last-minute witness."

She gave him a reproachful look. "Oh, is that so?" Harm could be so smug at times it made her want to slug him, but his self-confidence was a trait she greatly admired.

Harm rested his hands behind his neck as he stretched out his long frame. "Uh huh. And this witness blew a hole right through Petty Officer Ingram's alibi."

"Well I am sure that was a tough blow to Sturgis, but I hope you don't take too much time to gloat," she narrowed her eyes at him, "like you usually do following a win." Removing a notebook from her desk drawer, he saw the skepticism flitter across her face.

"Oh, come on, like you've never gloated after winning a case against me!"

She shook her head. "Never to the degree you take it to."

Harm refused to accept her answer as he leaned further back in his chair. "Still, the fact is you didn't deny it!"

She shrugged, then turned back to the notepad in her hand.

Curious as to contents of her notebook, he craned his neck to see what she was writing. "So, uh, whatcha working on?"

"Well, Uncle Matt's birthday is in little over a week, and I wanted to make it really special for him." She flipped through a few pages, pausing when she came to the desired one. "I was thinking about having a party at the Botanical Gardens. I wanted to invite some of his friends that live in the surrounding areas, you know, just show him what he means to everyone. I've got a list of things that need to be done should I decide to do this, and I'm rather short on time….I just don't know…." She trailed off, then propped her chin on her hand as an apprehensive expression crossed her face. "What are your thoughts? You think this is something he'd like or even want?"

His heart swelled with love for the woman sitting in front of him. No matter what she was going through, she always made it a point to make people feel special, valued, and important. He only wished he could find the words to tell her she was all of those, and more, to him. "I think that is a wonderful idea, Mac. He'll love it, I'm positive. I'd be more than happy to help with whatever needs to be done."

"Oh Harm, I couldn't ask that of you. You have already gone out of your way for my uncle and me more times than I can count." She shook her head, in silent protest, as he reached across the small space between them to snatch the notebook out of her hands. Leave it to Harm to take matters into his own hands...literally!

He read her list of things to do, gesturing towards the notebook and the stack of cases on her desk. "Mac, you can't do all of this by yourself, work your assignments, AND take care of your uncle. Let me help." He held the notebook out of her reach when she protested his help and attempted to lean across her desk to retrieve it. "Now who are you planning to invite?"

She thumbed off the people on her hand. "A few of his friends from the Corps, and of course, the people here at JAG: Harriet and Bud, the Admiral, Sturgis, Singer, Gun-"

"Singer? You invited…her?" he cut her off suddenly, gripping the edge of the arms of the leather chair as he straightened quickly. "Mac! Are you crazy!?" He let go of the arms, falling back into the chair when the look on her face made it clear she was not going to change her mind.

"Harm, I am NOT going to NOT invite her. That's incredibly rude, not to mention childish. I know a lot of people don't like her, but I really do think she's got a good heart. People need to give her a chance."

He looked at her in disbelief, raking his hands through his hair as he leaned back. "Maaaaac. Please, rethink what you're doing here! She's nothing bu-" he began to say, but his chair toppled backwards, sending Harm tumbling to the floor.

The coat rack behind him fell over, smacking the office door and clearing the stack of books on top of her filing cabinet on its way down. The books fell on top of Harm, each thud being accentuated by his groan.

"Harm!" Mac immediately came around the corner of her desk as Harm lay, momentarily stunned, on the floor.

"Owwww….my head" he managed to say, rubbing his forehead where it had collided with the coatrack.

She put one arm around his shoulders to support him and cradled the back of his head with the other. "Whoa there! Easy, sailor. Let me help you sit up." She felt his upper arms, then worked her hand down the length of his body to check for broken or dislocated bones. It was a motion that he appreciated despite the pain shooting through his skull. "Are you hurt anywhere besides your head?"

"No, I think it's mostly my head…ooowww."

Pinning one knee against his thigh to keep him from getting up, she ran a gentle hand over his face. "Sit still. I need to get a good look at your forehead."

Her position gave him an excellent view of her….chest. He was pretty sure the Marines didn't intend to make the female uniform the least bit sexy, but Harm was convinced that if anyone could make it look good, it was his Sarah. She had the most graceful curves of any woman he'd ever met. And she was too busy examining the knot on his forehead to realize that he was being very un-gentlemanly at the moment.

Damn Marine uniform! It kept him from really seeing anything of significance, but the fact that she…they…were so close, within reach, gave him a secret thrill.

'Wait a minute….'His Sarah'? You really did hit your head, didn't you, Rabb?'

"Harm!"

He jerked his eyes up and away as if burned. His his face blushed red with embarrassment at having been caught...Or so he thought.

"You're bleeding!" She reached over to grab a tissue from the box of Kleenex on the corner of the desk. The subtle scent of her perfume wafted over him as a result of her movements. She pressed it against the moderately oozing scrape just above his temple and watched his face carefully.

"Ouch!" he pulled away from her hand as a sting of pain shot across his forehead at her efforts.

She recoiled as though she'd been slapped, her hand immediately falling away from his face. "I'm sorry!"

Harm saw the expression of unnecessary guilt cross her face and hurried to reassure her. "Mac, it's-"

Harriet burst through the door at that moment, stopping short at the chaotic mess in front of her. "Ma'am! Sir! What happened? I heard the commotion outside!" She bent down to pick up the books littering the floor, casting worried glances at Harm as she did so. "Oh my God, you're bleeding!"

"I uh…leaned too far back in the chair. The coatrack and I didn't meet on the best of terms." With a chagrined look, he weakly gestured to the toppled chair and coatrack still on the floor.

Harriet finished stacking the pile of books back on the filing cabinet, then moved to return the furniture to its upright position. She flashed a sympathetic smile. "Well clearly, the coatrack won that fight, sir. And," she nodded towards his wound, "you need to ice that before you end up with a knot."

Mac worked to wipe the blood away. "Let's get you to the breakroom so I can clean you up. There's a First-Aid kit in there." She pressed a wad of tissue into his hand as she tugged on his shoulder to assist him to his feet. "Hold this against that wound so it will stop bleeding. And get that six of yours moving!"

"Yes ma'am!" He gave her a mock salute as best he could, given she had a vice grip on one arm and he was holding the tissue with his other hand.

"Thank you, Harriet, for picking that up," she gestured toward the younger officer and the neatly stacked books. They exited the office and Mac steered him into the breakroom, setting him down on one of the faux leather stools. She spoke to him over her shoulder as she rummaged in one of the cabinets for the First-Aid kit. "Sit still while I get some supplies."

"If I'm good, will you give me a sucker?" He gave her his best puppy dog look, then flashed her his infamous smile.

Mac rolled her eyes, then turned back around, medical supplies in hand. "No, I don't want to ruin my reputation for being a mean ol' jarhead. And, if you'll remember what I told you in Arizona all those years ago, that smile may get you your way with others, but not with me." She laid out some cotton balls, a tube of Neosporin ®, and a bandage. "Besides, we don't have any more suckers. I gave the last one to little A.J. earlier this week." She gave him an apologetic look, pouring some antiseptic on a wad of cotton before moving to apply it to his wound. "This may sting a little." He winced but did not pull away.

Besides….he was too focused on other things:

Like her lips...They were SO intoxicating and very close...too close! He watched, mesmerized, as she bit her bottom lip in concentration. She worked to clean the wound before tenderly applying the ointment. The dull throbbing at his forehead didn't even register. The only thing that registered was how close she…her lips, were to him. His fingers itched to reach out and touch them. He wondered if they were as soft and pliable as he remembered. He thought back to when he kissed her on the docks of Norfolk all those years ago. Her mouth had been so accommodating to his advances. It was as though, she read in his heart, what he couldn't express in words. It was a moment he had committed to memory. It was a memory he revisited when the darkness of night crept into his room. It was a veil that cloaked him in loneliness and desolation from not having what he wanted most in life. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the bumps and pits they'd encountered during their partnership had changed how yielding and soft she was. There was only one way to find out….

Before he could confirm his suspicions, she finished cleaning his wound and her deft fingers had applied the bandage. "There! All done!" She took a step back to admire her handiwork and smirked. "You're not a bad patient after all, Commander."

He pretended to pout in an attempt to cover his inner thoughts, which he hoped didn't show on his face. "But I didn't even get a sucker!"

Without thinking, she laid her right hand on his chest for support, using the other to frame his face as she delivered a soft kiss to his cheek. "How's that?" The gesture was so quick he barely had time for it sink in...but his cheek burned pleasantly where her lips had made contact. He inhaled her perfume as she pulled back. Her hand absently remained on his chest and he reached up quickly to cover it with his own.

"I'd say that was much better than candy, Nurse Mackenzie" he replied, his voice emerging soft and low from his chest. "Do you give that to all your patients, or just me?" He tightened his grip on her hand, unwilling to lose the closeness in proximity they had to one another.

Her eyes met his, full of warmth, mirth, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. She opened her mouth to respond with a quip of her own, but was interrupted by a booming voice just outside the doorway.

"Well, well, well….what situation has one of my top lawyers managed to get himself into this time?"

The sudden interruption caused the two to jump apart. Reality came back to them with a jolt.

They were still at work... They were at JAG...They were surrounded by an office full of coworkers and a C.O., who would most certainly, bring them up on fraternization charges.

AJ stepped into the breakroom, finding two very red-faced officers standing unnecessarily at attention in front of him. He looked at them suspiciously.

"G-Good morning, sir" Harm stammered out, pleading to the higher powers above to keep the blush from creeping into his face.

His gaze flicked between the two. "It's 1400, Commander."

A big lump formed in his throat and he forced it back down. "Yes sir. "

Without missing a beat, Mac answered the unasked question. "As per usual with the Commander...he pushed the limits. This time it was with my office chair, and well…." She gestured to the bandaged cut on his head, "you can see for yourself how well THAT went."

AJ shook his head in disbelief, folding his arms across his chest, as he leaned against the counter. "You know, Commander, for some reason, I was hoping your finesse as a pilot would translate better in the office. I can see that hasn't happened."

Harm remained stiff as a board, his gaze fixated on a point slightly above and to the left of AJ's head. "My apologies, sir."

"At ease, Commander, Colonel. This isn't a Russian interrogation."

Both officers assumed a relaxed stance.

"I can safely assume you have the…situation…" AJ jerked his head toward the bottle of antiseptic still in Mac's hands, "under control, mmm?"

"Yes sir, that would be a correct assumption."

AJ regarded them with lingering scrutiny, a palatable aire of pleasant tension oozing between his two officers. "Make sure the Commander has no follow-up meeting with your office décor, Colonel," he gruffly instructed, "Carry on!" Giving an imperceptible shake of his head, he moved to exit the break room when something happened to catch his eyes…..

He paused, mid-stride, keeping his back towards them as he covered what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "And Commander, you might want to wipe the Colonel's lipstick off your cheek. I don't need every man in the building getting themselves injured just so they can get a kiss from our provisional medic. That will be all." AJ exited the breakroom, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

_'If I had any hair, it'd all be grey by now from the antics of those two!'_

Both let out the breath they'd been holding unknowingly. Pulling a sheet from the roll of paper towels beside the stove, Mac gently wiped away the lip prints, a sheepish grin covering her face. "Sorry 'bout that."

"I'm sure as hell not."

The words were out before he could think about them. But the truth was...he wasn't sorry. And he wasn't sorry that he'd said so.

Mac blushed, suddenly turning to occupy herself with putting the contents of the First-Aid kit back in its container. He reached out to grasp her elbow, anything, to keep her from shying away from him. He felt they were so close to reaching a middle ground and he wasn't about to let them take ten steps backwards.

"Mac?"

She risked a glance over her shoulder, momentarily taken aback from the intent look in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Dinner? Tonight? My treat."

She hesitated, then gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "I don't want to be out too late. Uncle Matt is….well, you know."

Harm shook his head. "No need to explain. There's a café on the corner just down the road from here. I figure we can stop by on the way home. I can help with pinning down the details of your uncle's party without spoiling it for him. The service there is fast and the food is pretty good. They even have a burger, extra greasy, just how you like it." He winked at her playfully, hoping she would accept his invitation.

He was rewarded with a smile and a light punch in the arm. "Ok, but you can tone down the exaggerated level of disdain regarding my eating habits, flyboy." She gathered up the bandage wrappers and soiled cotton balls to dispose of in the garbage can. "Besides, don't knock something 'til you've tried it!"

"Who said I was exaggerating?"

Rolling her eyes at him as she exited the breakroom, she called over her shoulder. "You? Exaggerate anything? NEVER!"

With a broad smile on his face at the opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with her, Harm whistled as he crossed the bullpen to his office, his throbbing forehead all but forgotten.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1800

Dahlia Café

Falls Church, VA

Harm pulled his SUV into the last available parking space in front of the café. Mac had arrived just a few moments ahead of him. She sat in the car on her phone, no doubt conversing with her uncle. He contemplated waiting on her to finish, but seeing the place getting rather crowded, he decided to go in so he could snag a table. Stepping out of the car, his movements garnered her attention and he pointed at the door indicating for her to join him when she ended her phone call. She gave a nod of agreement, then turned her attention back to her conversation.

"How did your afternoon walk go? Did they give you a nice bath?" she asked, glancing at the clock on her dashboard; it was 1800. The hospice people usually took him for a walk in the afternoons to get him out of the apartment. Afterwards they would give him a good bath and get him dressed for the evening.

"They did, indeed. They left about an hour ago. I'm just settling in. You on your way home?"

"That's good, you need the fresh air." She saw Harm settle into a chair in front of the cafe's window, his form partially obscured by an ornamental tree. "Harm and I are grabbing some dinner. I don't think we'll be here more than an hour. What would you like me to bring you?"

"Oh, don't you worry about me, Sarah. I've still got some of that soup you prepared last night. Besides, you know I don't have much of an appetite anymore."

Mac sighed into the phone. Her uncle had steadily lost weight, with the loss having accelerated in the last two weeks. "I know."

Hearing the sadness in his niece's voice made Matthew's heart ache, and he changed the subject in an attempt to lighten the situation at hand. "Sooooo…..where's that handsome man of yours taking my beautiful niece out for a date?" He'd tease her until his very last breath!

"Uncle Maaaatt! It's not a date! And he's not my man." She was grateful he couldn't see the furious blush that crept across her face. She took a deep breath to steady her heart, which was now fluttering incessantly.

"Uh huh" he dragged out the two syllables, thoroughly unconvinced. "Don't forget, young lady, just because you're grown doesn't mean you don't still have a curfew! I expect you to be home no later than 2300. No excuses!"

Mac couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous but playful request. "I can promise you I'll be home way before then. I'm too old to stay up that late!"

"See to it that you are!" he joked, then added, "And one more thing, Sarah."

"What's that, Uncle Matt?"

"I expect a goodnight kiss between you two! Bye!" Matt quickly hung up the phone before she could say anything more, his deep laughter rolling across the line.

She rolled her eyes, then giggled self-consciously. "I'd want more than a kiss from that man!" she said to her inner self, feeling her face redden even more.

'Did I really just say that out loud? Geeez MacKenzie, get ahold of yourself!'

Stepping out into the brisk winter air, she quickly made her way to the café entrance, laughing as her uncle's comment lingered in the back of her mind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1230

The next day

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

The water ran cold over Harm's skin as he stuck it under the kitchen faucet to test the temperature. His movement disrupted the normal flow of water, flicking small droplets in every direction. As he waited for the water temperature to warm, his thoughts wandered back to the events over the last two months. The strain of her uncle's illness and inevitable death was beginning to show on Mac's beautiful face, sending her retreating into her shell. Ever since Matt's convalescence care began, Mac seemed to withdraw from everyone around her. Oh, she was just as warm and sincere as she ever was, and while the changes went unnoticed by most, Harm knew her like the back of his hand. He wasn't easily fooled. With a sigh of resignation, he realized the walls she'd worked so hard to build around herself...the very walls he'd worked so hard to tear down from the first moment she arrived at JAG... were reassembling right before his very eyes. And it scared him. He wouldn't…couldn't…lose her now…he refused to let that happen.

"Morning Harm, how goes it?" Sturgis greeted cheerfully, glancing over his shoulder at Harm as he opened the refrigerator to retrieve his lunch bag. It was half-past the noon hour and his stomach was protesting its lack of contents rather loudly.

Harm remained silent, unaware that he had been addressed. Sturgis recognized the all-too familiar look: brows knitted, eyes narrowed, mouth drawn taut. He reached out to gently touch his arm. "Hey buddy, you alright?"

"Huh?" Harm jumped, Sturgis' touch and words jarring him out of his thoughts. He flashed a weak smile of apology. "Sorry man, my mind was elsewhere."

Sturgis nodded in understanding, choosing not to comment on it. "I got Mac's invitation in the mail yesterday. I knocked on her office door to let her know I was going, but I forgot she's off today. Would you mind passing on the message?"

"Sure, she'll be glad to hear you are coming."

Sturgis regarded his friend for a moment as he watched Harm focus on drying his coffee mug. "Say, want to join me for a round of hoops after work tonight? Celebrate your victory in court last week and blow off some steam? I think you could use the break."

Harm considered his offer. It had been a long week, that was for sure, and a friendly game of basketball sounded very appealing. He nodded in acquiescence. "I'm in."

"Good. So, back to the party, anything I can help with? I know Mac's not one to accept help…."

Harm snorted. "You can say that again." He finished drying the mug, placing it back in cupboard above his head. He tossed the used paper towel into the garbage can. "Thanks for the offer, but it's almost done. Mac's stressing over the guest list; we're having trouble tracking down some of the Colonel's old combatant friends. She wanted to invite them, seeing as they kept in touch through occasional letters during his time at Leavenworth. But, some of them were lost during cell moves and his release process."

At that moment, AJ walked in the breakroom, stepping beside Harm so as to refill his coffee mug. He greeted both officers with a curt nod. "Commander Turner, Rabb, solving the problems of the world in the breakroom, are we?"

Harm chuckled. "Something along that line, sir."

"Actually, sir," Sturgis postured, "maybe you could help us solve a problem. We were discussing Colonel O'Hara's party, and Rabb shared he and Colonel Mackenzie are having difficulty tracking down some of Colonel O'Hara's combatant friends. She'd like to invite them to attend as they wrote frequently to the Colonel while he was in prison."

AJ nodded in Harm's direction. "Get me a list this afternoon and I might be able to dig something up. I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can find out."

Harm worked to cover his initial shock, voicing his gratitude. "Thank you, sir, I know Mac would appreciate it, too."

Returning the carafe to the hotplate, AJ held up his coffee mug in a show of departure. "See to it you keep me updated on the party plans, Rabb."

"Absolutely, sir."

The two officers looked at each other following AJ's exit, their facial expressions leaving no need for the exchanging of words. Just when they thought they had pulled apart all the many layers that comprised their Commanding Officer, he somehow always had another layer waiting…..

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1830

Roper's Gym

Union Station, DC

The gym was empty by the time Harm and Sturgis arrived, and as a result, they had the court to themselves. They were on their second round, the discussions regarding work and everything in between having dwindled down over the course of the last hour.

Sturgis shot the ball over to Harm, then seized the opportunity to rebound for a shot when Harm overthrew.

"1-0," Sturgis yelled, catching the ball as it bounced up and tossing it to Harm.

Harm dribbled briefly before sidestepping to the left, then banking a shot with his right arm. He watched as the ball swished cleanly through the net before plucking it from its descent. He threw it back to Sturgis. "1-1, you're up."

Sturgis eyed the net as he dribbled in place. "I've been meaning to ask about Mac and her uncle. How are they doing?"

Harm sighed. "He's getting weaker by the day. I suppose Mac is handling it as well as she knows how to." He followed Sturgis as he made a run up center court, managing to knock the ball out of his opponent's hand mid-leap. His reflexes weren't quick enough to catch it, though, and it went bouncing across the court before coming to rest in front of the water fountains. "It's just hard, you know? Knowing that he's dying and she's hurting, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it except stand by and watch."

Sturgis waved off Harm's movement toward the ball, jogging over to retrieve it himself. "I can't say I know what that feels like, because I've never been faced with that situation," he called over his shoulder, "but, I'd say you are doing far more than just standing around, watching." He tossed the ball in Harm's direction. "Still 1-1, your shot."

Harm caught the ball, backed up a few paces, then paused to evaluate his distance from the net. "It just sucks, Sturgis. The one man who ever gave a damn about her will be nothing but a memory in just a matter of weeks."

His buddy gave him a skeptical look before moving in an attempt to block his shot, albeit unsuccessfully. Harm managed to dodge the interference and faked a run to the right, cleanly dropping the ball in the net.

"I'd say you're wrong about that one, buddy," Sturgis disagreed. At Harm's confused expression, he elaborated, "Colonel O'Hara's definitely not the only one who loves and cares about Mac."

Plucking the ball as it bounced up, Harm threw it over to him. "2-to-1. I'm leading. And you know what I mean."

Sturgis nodded as he dribbled in place, then lined up his shot. "So, uh, did you and Mac ever have that talk?"

Momentarily distracted, Harm didn't bother to interfere with the shot, allowing Sturgis to even the score. "No," he sighed, gesturing emptily to the space between them, "now's just not a good time. I wanted to tell her the night I got back from Norfolk, but then Matt ended up in the hospital, she told me about his illness, and….I don't know." He let out a frustrated sigh, "Mac's got enough on her plate without me adding to it. Half of me thinks that maybe I wasted all of our chances, but the other half of me thinks that, maybe after-." But the moment the words came to his mind, he immediately tossed them out, disgusted with himself. He surely did not want to come across as though he was anxious for the older Colonel to pass; that was furthest thing from the truth. It just had always been hard for him to put into words what his heart was feeling….ALWAYS!

Sturgis gave a silent nod of understanding. While he wasn't privy to the intricate details regarding the relationship between Mac and her uncle, from what he had been able to gather thus far, it was obvious Matthew had played a significant role in both her private and professional life. "No need to explain." His expression turned pensive, a change that did not go unnoticed.

"What is it?"

He studied Harm for a minute, then spoke. "I used to think you only got one shot at whatever you wanted most in life; you know, like that saying, 'Opportunity never knocks twice'. But I think, when it comes to you and Mac, opportunity will wait as long as it takes."

Harm smiled briefly as he walked toward the bleachers where their gym bags sat. Removing his water bottle and a towel, he took a long drink before answering. "I hope you're right, Sturgis." He sighed as he ran the towel through his sweaty, spiked hair.

"Ha! I'm always right, and you know it! Besides," Sturgis paused as he took a drink from his own bottle, "somebody's gotta put up with you in your old age, and it sure as hell isn't going to be ME!"

Harm squirted Sturgis with water as he laughed. "Real funny. You're quite the comedian, aren't you."

"Say, let's do one last round and call it a night. Besides,", he checked his watch, "I'm supposed to meet Bobbi for dinner at 8 anyway." He picked up the basketball and threw it to Harm. "First to ten wins."

"You're on, buddy. Loser buys a drink at McMurphy's."

Sturgis considered Harm's offer, then nodded. "Deal"

"Sounds like I'm not the only one playing the court. You and Bobbi, huh?" Harm winked at his friend.

Sturgis rolled his eyes. "She's smart, beautiful, and kind; reminds me of Mac." He gave Harm a reproachful look. "The main difference between you and I is... I know what I want, and I go after it. You, on the other hand," he caught Harm's rebound and sent the ball sailing effortlessly through the net, "go after what you want with the speed of a sloth."

Harm ignored his friend's comment, cutting to the heart of the matter as he waited for Sturgis to return the ball. "You really think we have a chance?"

"I do, Harm. I wouldn't say it if I didn't think it were true."

Satisfied with his friend's sincerity, he launched the ball towards the net and watched as it bounced precariously on the rim before dropping in. "4-4. I'd venture to think we're both off to a good start." His comment wasn't just meant for their game, and Sturgis knew it.

"I'd have to agree with you there, Harm. And hopefully, we'll both win."

The two men, both opponents and friends on and off the court, continued to battle it out. Neither one bothered to keep score anymore. They knew all that really mattered is both walked away a winner when the game was over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1330

Eight Days later

Botanical Gardens

Georgetown, DC

"There! That's the last of the streamers and the banner is hung," Harm stated, rolling up the excess string he'd used to hang the decorations. He made his way down the ladder and took a step back to inspect his handiwork. In between, two separate pieces that spelled out, "Happy Birthday!", he carefully placed gold and blue streamers, Uncle Matt's favorite colors. It looked classy if he did say so himself.

Mac paused on her way to the reception table where she was setting up framed pictures of her uncle. "Wow! That looks great! I think you may have missed your calling as an event coordinator!"

He shook his head and jogged over to help her when he realized her arms were full. "Thanks, but if it's all the same to you, I'll keep my day job."

They'd been working at decorating the ballroom since that morning, and it was now nearly 1500 in the afternoon. She tucked a sweaty strand of hair behind her ear, then gestured toward the decorations in the room as they worked alongside each other. "If I haven't already said so, thank you for helping, Harm. I mean it."

"No problem, I'm glad to be of help."

They laughed as they both reached for the same photo. It was the one AJ noticed during his visit to Mac's apartment when she returned from Kansas. "Nice ride," he pointed to the picture, "first time without training wheels?"

She paused as she set out a photo of Matthew during his Kuwaiti tour. She knew the photo he was speaking of, and the memories associated with it always made her heart constrict. It was another reminder of what she'd lost, and what she was losing. The bike, although it was just a material item in most people's eyes, held far more sentimental value. She'd lost it, and now she was losing the man who had gone to so much trouble to buy it for her. "Yeah, something like that." Her response was quiet, her attitude subdued. She quickly moved further down the table to set out another photo.

Her sudden change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by Harm. He scrutinized her face as she turned away from him. "You wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head in the negative. She was too tired to fight the demons that came with dredging up the past. "No, but thanks. Maybe some other time."

Harm laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, seeing fatigue beginning to settle in her eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

She gave him an unconvincing smile. "I'm fine, really. Just tired." She nodded toward the room, changing the subject on him. "I think we've done all we can do for now. All that's left is putting the tablecloths on for the caterers and getting the music list ready for the DJ."

"Why don't you go home and rest up before the party this evening? I'll take care of the rest." He shoved the now-empty box under the table to get it out of the way. Whatever he could do to take some of the stress off her, he'd do it. The hard part was getting her to agree to it.

Mac thought about his offer for a moment but turned it down. "Harm, you've been up since early this morning, AND you worked yesterday. I didn't." She tossed a half-empty roll of string into the box he'd shoved under the table.

He wasn't surprised by her refusal. Getting Mac to agree to any sort of help was almost an "Act of Congress." Although her resiliency was something he admired, he also hated it because she had a tendency to close herself off.

"We're not keeping score here. Besides, if I didn't want to, I wouldn't have volunteered." He grabbed her coat from where it lay on a nearby chair and motioned for her to slip into it. "Go home and get some sleep. I'll be by later to pick you up."

She hesitated briefly, then accepted his offer. "Thanks Harm, I appreciate it." She eased into the coat, buttoning it as he turned the fingers of her gloves right-side out. Thoughtful gestures such as that did not escape her notice, and it made her heart swell with deep appreciation. She'd have to think of a special way to return all the kindnesses he'd bestowed on her over the previous weeks.

Gesturing for her to take the lead, he handed her purse to her before shouldering his own coat. "I'll walk you out."

The sky was overcast with random bits of snow drifting down as the pair walked the brief distance to her car. A comfortable silence fell over them, but for the first in a long time, it did not provide the usual unpleasant awkwardness. His gentle hand at the small of her back sent warm shivers up her spine, its gesture speaking volumes of protectiveness. He opened the car door for her, waiting until she started the engine and rolled down her window before shutting it. He braced his hands against the window as he leaned slightly toward her. He could already feel the heat from the vents blowing across his hands, for which he was grateful. It meant she wouldn't have to be in a freezing car for long. "I'll pick you two up at 1830, how does that sound?"

Mac chewed her bottom lip as she considered his offer, her heart and mind arguing with each other. Ever since Matthew's hospitalization, Harm had been so generous with his time and efforts. Her apartment wasn't exactly close in location to his. She hated for him to make a special trip just to pick them up but she honestly didn't think her uncle would be able to ride comfortably in her sportscar. He was already weak and declining every day. Not to mention she needed to have new winter tires put on her car but had not had the opportunity to do so. "Okay," she nodded, "it probably would be safer to go in your SUV. And I think Uncle Matt would be a lot more comfortable."

Harm grinned his signature smile at her acquiescence. "See? Isn't it much easier when you let me boss you around?"

"Ah ha! Fat chance, flyboy!", she laughed, securing her seat belt as she shifted gears and put the car in reverse. "Key word you used there, 'let'. And I'll let you let me be bossed around," she held up her index finger to stave off the retort brewing on his tongue, "just this one time." She winked as she pressed the button to roll the window up. "Don't be late sailor!"

Harm chuckled, stepping back to allow her room to back out of the parking space. It was so good to see a little bit of sparkle back in her eyes. Their playful banter had been put on the back burner due to her uncle's illness. Harm found her more reserved and quiet than he could ever remember. Lost in thought, he nearly missed her wave. Catching it just in time to return it, he grinned as he jogged back into the building. There was still quite a bit left to do for the party. If he was going to get it done and have time to get ready himself before picking them up... he'd have to hurry. His gaze fell on a picture of Mac with Colonel O'Hara. She looked to be about six years old and was playfully standing in a wedding gown that nearly swallowed her little frame. Matthew, dressed in a tuxedo, was caught mid-laughter, holding up the straps of the dress as she grinned up at him. Undoubtedly, he was a groomsman in someone's wedding.

"One day, Sarah, I promise, you'll be in your own wedding dress," he whispered, as his fingertip gently traced her face. He took a deep breath as the sudden onslaught of emotions surged through his heart. Glancing at the clock above the bay window, he calculated he had just under four hours to get things finished. He took one last look at the photo, then turned his attention, back to the remaining tasks.

"Just give me time to work things out in my head" he thought as he finished the decorating.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER ELEVEN::


	13. Chapter 12

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Twelve

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1620

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, DC

As he rode the elevator to her floor, Harm nervously adjusted his shirt cuffs, for what seemed like the fiftieth time. It had taken him three outfit changes and two ties later before he considered himself presentable. He decided to go with a striped tie versus the diamond print tie. He never would have guessed that choosing, to wear or not wear, a tie would take thirty minutes. Now that he was almost to Mac's front door, he began to second guess his choice of attire. Did navy really go with dark brown? His mother said it did, when he called to ask, but now he wasn't so sure…..

_'Relax, Rabb, it's just Mac and her uncle! No need to be so damn strung up_!'

But it wasn't "just Mac and her uncle." It was the very woman he would give up his life for in a heartbeat. It was the only woman he could ever imagine being with in all matters of the heart. And it was the very man who was solely responsible for Mac coming into his life to begin with. He owed that man his gratitude and so much more.

He glanced down at the bouquet of flowers in his sweaty hand, smiling at the evidence of an unusual stroke of luck. As he'd exited the parking lot of the botanical gardens earlier that evening, a sudden thought to purchase flowers had popped into his head. Sappy romantic overtures weren't generally his forte', but his conscience pleaded its case. It kindly pointed out there were times in life that warranted such gestures. Tonight, it reasoned, was certainly one of them. Unfortunately, upon realizing the late hour, which equated to an absence of open flower shops, he was forced to abandon the idea with a regretful sigh. He decided to stop by the neighborhood grocery store which he was a frequent patron of. He was intent on procuring a few pertinent essentials in need of replenishment. And while he'd procured everything initially on his list, he left with far more than he'd bargained for.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::FLASHBACK::

A warm blast of air greeted Harm when he stepped over the threshold of Weinhart's automatic double doors, ruffling his hair in the brief draft. He seized a basket from the towering stack to his left, then set out to secure the items on his hastily scrawled list. A brief glance around indicated the store was relatively empty of shoppers. An observation that greatly pleased him. The less people, in the store, meant he could get through the check-out line quicker. As he waited patiently for a fellow patron to move past the front of the produce section, his eyes spied a small display cooler. His heart jumped slightly when he realized its purpose was to keep fresh cut flower arrangements. Anxious for the shopper in front of him to get out of the way, he strained his neck to see if there were any left. A wave of disappointment washed over his face: there was one lone bouquet remaining...but they weren't roses. He checked his watch: 1700. No time to travel to another store to see if they had any.

'Grab them anyway,' his conscience nudged him.

Mildly irritated at the prospect of striking out, he resisted the urge to dismiss the pesky instruction and immediately opened the door to remove the bouquet. A few feet away, stood an older gentleman, busily placing fresh produce on the growing mound of mangos. Noticing Harm scrutinizing the flowers, he called out to Harm.

"I'm 'fraid that's the last of our fresh cut arrangements. We're not due 'nother shipment 'til morning. Our truck got delayed from the snowstorm down south of here." He gestured towards the now-empty cooler, "I was just about to throw 'em out. They're almost dead. I'm real sorry, sir."

Harm looked at the flowers in his hand and hesitantly sniffed them, their fragrance quite strong but pleasant. With their colors bright, petals still fully intact and lacking any signs of wear, they certainly didn't look dead to him. Under the impression the clerk was mistaken, Harm held out the bouquet for inspection. "You mean these…." he glanced at the clerk's nametag, "Mr. Thompson? They don't look dead to me."

Confused, the clerk set aside the box of mangos he was sorting and ambled closer to Harm. His head bobbed between the display case and the flowers. He whistled sharply as he scratched his head. "Well, I'll jus' be damned!" He gestured towards the case, "I promise ya sir, I just nspected those flowers not an hour 'go, n' theys looked near dead, petals fallin off n' ever'thing!"

'Maybe these flowers were meant just for Mac….what are the odds?' his subconscious gently suggested.

Harm shook his head in disbelief; he surely didn't need to be told twice!

"Well, sir, they look really good to me," Harm stated, then nodded with affirmation. "I'll definitely take them."

Mr. Thompson gave Harm a big, toothy grin as he returned the flowers. "I reckon these are fer a right special lady, eh?"

Harm smiled, carefully placing the wrapped bouquet in the seat of his shopping cart. "Yes sir, they most certainly are."

"Well, she mus' be real special to bring near-dead flowers back ta life. I'm tellin' ya, those flowers were as dead as a mackrel. Beats all I eva' seen! Good luck to ya, sir!" Mr. Thompson chuckled, giving Harm an affectionate pat on the shoulder before shuffling back to the half-filled box of mangos that awaited.

Harm stepped towards the direction of the condiments but turned back when Mr. Thompson called out to him.

"Make sure you tell that special lady how ya feel 'bout her. Don't want 'nother man comin' up n' snatchin' her away!"

"Yes sir," he nodded solemnly, "you have my word." With a nod of his head, he ventured off to procure the rest of the items on his list, his heart already thumping in anticipation of the evening's events.

_END FLASHBACK_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The dinging of the door's alarm jerked Harm back to the present, and he forced himself to exit the chamber just as the doors signaled their closing. His legs suddenly felt like gelatin as he covered the short distance to her door, the pulse in his neck throbbing erratically. Swapping the flowers between hands so he could wipe his sweaty palms on his thighs, a sudden weight of suffocation settled heavily within his chest.

_'Geez Rabb! Get a hold of yourself! This isn't your high school prom_!'

Except that it was. Sort of…..

He checked his watch, then breathed a sigh of relief when the hands pointed five minutes to the half-hour. Another stroke of luck: for once, he'd managed to arrive early!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(SAME TIME & LOCATION)

"Sarah, sweetheart, you look just fine," Matt cajoled, a bemused smile on his face as his niece checked her reflection in the floor-length mirror for what seemed like the fiftieth time. He glanced at the clock above the end table; it was almost 1730. "Besides, he'll be here any minute. You don't want him to catch a Marine off-guard now, do you?"

His comment fell on deaf ears as a distracted Mac critiqued her appearance with a skepticism. The dress she'd chosen was modest but still very flattering. Falling just above the knee with a subtle neckline and quarter-length sleeves, it showed off her figure without being skimpy. Frowning, she turned to face Matthew. "Are you sure, Uncle Matt? It's not too revealing, is it?" She smoothed imaginary wrinkles, from the material, as she turned from side to side, scrutinizing the hemline. It had taken her three dress changes and two pairs of heels to determine she was presentable. Her uncle said the shoes looked fine with the dress, but now that she had them on, she wasn't so sure...

"No, not at all. And you know I wouldn't let you walk out of here.. if it did."

Mac nodded in agreement. Matthew had taught her many life lessons during her teenage years, and among them was to dress in a manner that reflected self-respect. "As you always told me, Uncle Matt, 'If it ain't for sale….'"

"Don't advertise!" both finished together.

"That's right, baby duck!" He wheeled himself over to where she stood fretting over her appearance. "You, my dear, are nothing short of stunning. I'm sure that handsome sailor of yours would hastily agree with me."

His niece shot him a look. "He's not my sailor." She turned back to the mirror, "yet", she whispered to herself. But Matt heard it and smiled softly, letting the comment go.

Satisfied with Matthew's approval, Mac concluded her assessment. "Well, then, this is the dress... that's settled." She turned her attention to the small velvet box sitting on the entryway table. Its contents, while quite expensive, was worth far more in sentimental value than in dollars. Indeed, it was among the most treasured of her possessions. She removed the delicate white-gold necklace with the intention of putting it on, but her rattled nerves got the best of her and the chain slipped from her hands. "Damn it!" Swooping to retrieve it from the floor, she let out a huff of aggravation, chastising herself for being unnecessarily nervous. "Uncle Matt, do you think you could fasten this for me? I'm just…well…nevermind….." she waved her hand in flustered dismissal, reluctant to bring any more attention to her jitteriness.

"I will certainly try, come on over here." He motioned her towards him and she knelt next to his wheelchair, turning her back to him, so he could slip it around her neck. But despite his best efforts, his hands were just too shaky to fasten the small hook into the ring. After several attempts, he sighed, patting her shoulder in regret. "I'm sorry, Sarah, but Harm will have to do this. I just can't control my hands anymore."

Mac reached up behind her to squeeze his hand in understanding, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles. "It's okay, Uncle Matt, I appreciate you trying." Rising to her feet, she moved to retrieve a blanket from the tufted leather bench behind the couch to lay over his lap.

"Besides, I'm sure 'Mr. Hot-Shot-Fighter-Jock' wouldn't pass up the opportunity to get close to his RIO." He winked at her as her face turned a delicate shade of red. She was so easily embarrassed that he just couldn't help but tease her!

"Uncle Matt! We're just friends!"

He laughed heartily just as timid knock sounded at the door. "Well, well, well. Speak of the devil!"

Mac shot him another look over her shoulder as she quickly walked to the door. "Behave yourself!" she hissed. She checked herself in the mirror once more while Matt shook his head in amused resignation. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she opened the door and sucked in her breath at the sight. She was…

Stunned.

Harm stood on the other side, one hand poised to knock, the other hand clutching a sweet little bouquet of cut flowers. Dressed in a pair of dark brown slacks with a white dress shirt peeking underneath a baby blue sweater, he was, by far, the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes on. Momentarily speechless, she stood rooted in silence, her eyes appreciatively taking in his physique. The sweater fit like a glove, highlighting the blue- green haze lying within his stormy eyes. Blue was always her favorite color on him.

_'Hell, he looks good in anything!'_

Harm, likewise, was speechless. If there was anything he loved about being with Mac off-duty, it was seeing her in civvies. Much to his dismay it was not very often. The Marine Corps had a well-earned reputation for having the drabbest of military uniforms. Mac effortlessly made the best of it and wore it well. But out of uniform, it was an entirely different story. On the few occasions he'd been privileged to see her in dress wear, she'd always been a stellar knockout, undoubtedly turning heads of both men and women. Tonight, was certainly no different.

Or was it?

He could certainly feel something tangible between them, growing stronger, glowing brighter than it ever had before. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, grab hold of whatever it was, and never let go. His eyes traveled the length of her body as he took in every detail. The black dress fit her in all the right places, the delicate lace neckline and sleeves adding a feminine touch. Her chestnut hair was styled in a manner that he had not seen before. Gently tousled, it dusted her shoulder. He made a mental note to tell her to wear it like that more often; it was certainly very becoming. His eyes traveled up to scour her face. Her makeup was done in such a way that one could tell it was for a special occasion, but not overly done or exaggerated. But it was her eyes that captured most of his attention…the way her eyes sparkled with an aire of self-consciousness only served to make his heart flutter. Having found his breath, he finally spoke, willing his heart to settle back in its rightful place. "It's five before the half-hour. I told you I'd be early."

He said it with such an aire of seriousness that Mac nearly laughed. "Yes, indeed, sailor. That's a record! I may just have to write this down in my journal tonight."

Harm rocked on his heels, shoving his free hand in his pocket to hide the nervous twitching. "Wow. You look great, Mac."

_'Seriously Rabb, that's all you can manage to get out? She's a drop-dead knockout!'_

A shy grin crossed her face and she nervously pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Harm. You look very handsome yourself."

He couldn't bear the intensity, in which she looked at him, so he turned his attention to the bouquet in his hands. "Here. These…uh, are for you. Hope you like them." He thrust the stems towards her unceremoniously, his addled nerves provoking an awkward delivery. "Uh, they didn't have any roses, so, um, yeah…." His words trailed off as his brain refused to provide an eloquent explanation.

_'Smooth, Rabb, real smooth_!'

His face turned a slight shade of red from embarrassment.

"Well I sure as hell hope they're not for me, Harm. I'd hate to have to disappoint you by turning down your advances!" Matthew quipped, wheeling himself over to where the couple stood gazing at each other.

Mac startled, having momentarily forgotten that her uncle was sitting behind her.

Grateful for the comic relief that lifted the intensity of the moment, Harm laughed, "Sorry Matt, next time I'll try to remember to bring you some."

With a shy grin gracing her beautiful features, she accepted the flowers still in Harm's outstretch hand. Her cheeks took a delicate crimson color at the thoughtful gesture. It had been so long since she'd been given flowers by anyone, let alone the one man that she loved with all of her heart. The boyish grin on his face only served to make her heart flutter all the more. She sniffed them, the subtle fragrance complementing her olfactory senses. "Thank you, Harm, that was very sweet of you. These are gorgeous!"

_'Not half as gorgeous as you,'_.

"Sarah, you gonna make that poor man stand out there all night?"

"Oh! Sorry!" she blushed profusely, opening the door wider to allow him to step by. Soft tendrils of his cologne washed over her as he did so, and she inhaled deeply. He always smelled so good. She fingered the delicate petals once more, then started for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder as she went, "I'll be back in just a minute, I need to put these in water!"

"No need to rush, Mac. We've got plenty of time." Harm watched her retreating figure until she disappeared into the kitchen before turning his attention to Matthew.

"So, Harm, you ready to dance the night away with an ol' washed up grunt like me?"

Harm propped his tall frame against the front door, grinning as he caught the humor twinkling in Matthew's eyes. Something indicated that in Matt's younger days, he was most certainly a formidable opponent! "I don't know, think you can keep up with this ol' washed up fighter jock?"

Matthew shook his head in the negative. "No, son, I think it will be the other way around! I know you sailors have a hard time keeping up with us Marines," he patted him on his forearm in jest, "but I promise, I'll go easy on ya'. And as a bonus, I won't rub it in your face too much."

"Oh, that's so very generous of you!"

Mac returned at that moment with the vase of flowers in hand, fussing over them as she was clearly dissatisfied with how they were arranged. She'd already made a mental note to borrow the flower press from a friend of hers who owned a scrapbooking shop. These were flowers she certainly wanted to preserve for her memory books! She set the vase on the entry table, leaning from one side to the next while she evaluated her work.

Harm watched with a mixture of amusement and adoration as she spent several moments moving various pieces around. He thanked himself profusely for the decision to stop by the grocery store; if something so simple brought her so much joy, he'd buy a truckload of bouquets!

"Mac, they look fine. Besides, if you keep messing with them, all the petals will fall off."

Mac sighed, sticking a black-eyed Susan behind a sprig of baby's breath. "That's true, but you went to the effort to get them for me and I want them to look right in the vase." She rearranged a few more before stepping back to evaluate her work, clicking her tongue in resignation. "That'll have to do for now."

Matt took the opportunity to hand the necklace to Harm. "My hands just won't stay still long enough to fasten the clasp. Would you be so kind as to put this on her for me?"

With a surge of pride, he realized it was the necklace he'd given her two years ago for her 30th birthday. The small eagle, globe, and anchor, etched with a tiny 'S', dangled from the chain. "Certainly sir, I'd be happy to." He gently took the jewelry from Matt's outstretched hand, careful to keep from tangling the delicate chain.

_'I bet you would,_'

Matt worked to keep the knowing grin off his face. The feelings that ran between the two standing in front of him were painfully obvious. He just had to get them to admit it to each other before it was too late. He knew his niece could take care of herself, knew that she would be okay after his death, but it didn't deter him from wanting to see her with Harm.

Harm motioned Mac to stand in front of the mirror so he could see their reflections. He gently reached around her right side, passing the end of the necklace to his left hand. His voice was low and soft as he spoke, "Now, you tell me how low you want this to hang, and I'll fasten it at that length."

A slight shiver ran across her spine as his words tumbled out, his breath caressing the sensitive skin where her shoulder travelled up to meet her neck. She nodded in silence, as the close proximity to which he stood threatened to drive the very breath from her body. "A little bit higher, please." She was surprised at the levelness of her voice.

The cool metal slid up ever so slightly at her request.

"How's that?" He whispered against her ear as he leaned over her shoulder to check. The small charm rested just below the hollow of her throat. From where he stood, he could see the fine pulse of her heart. His own skipped and fluttered when he realized the effect his closeness had on her, if the slight change in her breathing was any indicator.

Satisfied with where the pendant lay, she nodded with confirmation, tilting her head slightly to the right so as to capture him in her peripheral field. Her voice was soft and sweet to his ears. "That's perfect. Thank you, Harm."

Matt watched the scene carefully, noticing the slight shaking of his niece's hands, and the way Harm's fingers lingered against her neck just a second longer than was necessary. He shook his head in amazement. It was so obvious!

_'Just friends my ass_!'

Reluctant to break the spell, but knowing the time had come to depart, Harm cleared his throat. "Well, if you two are ready, we'll get on the road. Don't want to be late." Ever the gentleman his mother raised, he assisted Mac with her coat, and, after ensuring that she was buttoned up, he grasped Matt's wheelchair and eased them out into the hallway. Mac locked the door behind them.

"Now, just where are the two of you taking me that is so fancy?" Matt inquired as Harm pushed him towards the elevators, carefully maneuvering his wheelchair over the threshold.

"Uh uh Uncle Matt! No time for questions! You'll find out when we get there" Mac admonished. She gave him a wink while she stepped aside to allow his wheelchair through the chamber doors.

"You always have been one for surprises, Sarah!"

"And you've always been one for asking questions when you shouldn't!"

The trio laughed as the elevator descended to the first floor, each one anxious about the evening for different reasons….

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1655 MT

Georgetown Botanical Gardens

Georgetown, DC

Matt's face scrunched in confusion when Harm parked the SUV into the lone available parking spot in front of the facility doors. "The Botanical Gardens?" He checked his watch; it was almost 1900, odd hours for the Gardens to still be open to the public. "They are open this late in the evening?"

Harm opened the back hatch of the SUV to pull the wheelchair out. He maneuvered it around to Matthew's side, unfolding it and insuring it was locked into place.

"Well, there is a very special star that will be seen tonight, but this is the only place where everyone could see it." Mac stepped out of the way to allow Harm unhampered access to transfer Matt into the chair. Once he was situated comfortably, she retrieved the blanket from the floorboard, laying it over his lap and tucking the edges underneath his legs. "It's why we had to dress so nicely. To see this special star, well, you have to dress like one."

This information was rather strange, but Matthew chose not to comment. It was apparent, given the cryptic wording and body language between his niece and Harm, that something was definitely not on the up-and-up. He just didn't know exactly what it was! Aside from a week-ago harvest moon, he was unaware of any upcoming special astrological events.

Satisfied that her uncle was settled comfortably, Harm effortlessly pushed the wheelchair up the winding ramp that led towards the facility's double doors. Mac was a step ahead of them, to hold the doors for their entrance into the dark lobby.

"Huh. Well that's strange…..looks like someone forgot to pay the electric bill" Harm joked, risking a glance in his partner's direction. "Mac, would you see if you can find the light switch? Maybe they forgot to leave the lights on for us."

Matt surveyed their surroundings with cautious inquisitiveness. Something just didn't add up. "You sure it's tonight, Harm? It looks deserted to me. I didn't see any cars out in the parking lot, either."

"Yes sir, the website's calendar said it was this Saturday night."

Mac pretended to fumble for the lights momentarily before locating it. "Oh! Here it is!"

"SURPRISE!"

A wave of clapping and cheering ensued, followed by confetti bombs, the latter sending streams of brightly colored paper in Matt's direction.

Matt jumped in his seat at the unexpected surprise, his jaw dropping as his eyes took in the crowd of people in front of him. There were faces he recognized and some he didn't; some whom he hadn't seen in years! Was that Chief Warrant Officer Mark Davis? A mixture of confusion and disbelief crossed his face as his mind worked to process what was happening.

What in the world?´ he thought to himself. 'There has to be at least thirty people here!'

"Happy Birthday, Uncle Matt!" Mac wrapped her left arm around his shoulders, gesturing with her other to the nearly crowded room. "These are just some of the people whose lives you have touched over the years." She squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "With the Admiral and Harm's help, we were able to track down some of your old Corps buddies and even your old college roommates. They all wanted to be here to celebrate your special day."

Tears welled up in Matt's eyes. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but found words eluded him. He could only nod in understanding.

Mac bent down alongside him, enveloping his hand gently within hers. "You see, Uncle Matt, YOU are the special star tonight. Everyone wanted to come out to see you." She kissed his cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had managed to seep out.

"Sarah, I-I don't know what to say'. He covered her hands with his, squeezing them gently. "You sure know how to fool a guy, don't you?"

"Matthew! You old dog! It's so good to see you, man!" A burly man stepped up to them, patting Matt on his upper arm before grabbing him in a brusque but gentle hug. He turned to greet Mac with a warm handshake. "Name's James Wiegand. This old coot and I were stationed together during our Bosnia and Kuwait tours." He rubbed the top of his head and flashed a jovial grin. "I left with a crown of hair and the prettiest gal in town batting her eyelashes at me. I came back with not nary a hair on my head nor a girl on my arm. Meanwhile," he jerked his thumb towards Matt, "this ol dog walks home with more hair than when he left and the girl I had my eyes on. Beats all I've ever seen!" The group chuckled, watching the two old friends engage in friendly banter. It warmed her heart to see her uncle so happy.

"And by the sound of it, you're still licking your wounds all these years later. What can I say? Rose-Marie had good taste in men. Maybe next time you'll shave that scraggly beard off like I suggested." He winked at James, and the two men proceeded to chat as though they had not spent the better part of 10 years and an entire ocean away. Mac smiled at the pair, knowing her uncle was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Harm watched Matthew and Mac's facial expressions with an intense feeling of satisfaction. It had taken quite a bit of late-night detective work (thanks to Bud) to track James down, but he didn't regret a minute of it. It was worth it.

"Good evening sir, ma'am" Harriet greeted, then gestured towards the decorations. "Everything just looks fantastic!"

"Thank you, Harriet. And, we're out of uniform" Harm tapped his shoulder where his military insignia usually rested, "so drop the formalities."

"Yes sir-I mean, Harm, Mac." A sheepish grin covered her face.

Mac couldn't help but laugh. Habits were hard to break, especially when it came to the Roberts'!

AJ had walked up to the group and chose at that moment to interrupt. "I'm impressed, especially knowing that Rabb had a hand in all of this. Now, no talk of work tonight, and that's an order!"

"Good luck getting her to listen, AJ. I've been working on that for the last thirty-two years and I've made no progress!" Matt called over his shoulder with a grin.

"Well, seeing as there is music playing and it's rather a crime to let a good song go to waste," AJ extended his hand to Mac, "care to dance, Mac?"

"Certainly, sir," she clapped a hand over her mouth, "Oops, I mean AJ."

"That's more like it." He effortlessly whisked her out to the dance floor, situating them adjacent to another couple.

The light music continued as the pair moved fluidly to the song; AJ the expert leader, Mac ever the skillful follower. "I wanted to thank you for coming tonight, and for all the work you did on tracking down his platoon members. I'll never be able to fully express my gratitude," she glanced over his shoulder at where her uncle sat, surrounded by several friends. Tears pricked her eyes when she heard his laughter skitter across the modest expanse between them. "I don't think I have ever seen him so happy." She heaved a poignant sigh. "You know, he lost so much of himself while he was in Leavenworth."

"It was a privilege to be able to do that, Mac. He's an honorable man. He made decisions I don't agree with, but, I know his heart was in the right place." AJ turned them slightly to the left to avoid running into a fellow couple. She followed his lead fluidly, never missing a step.

"It was, sir."

AJ stopped abruptly, fixing her with a look.

"Sorry."

He nodded briefly in acceptance before resuming their dance.

"He and I haven't always seen eye to eye in the decisions each we've made in our lives, but he's only wanted the best for those he cared about, including his country." She jerked her head towards Matthew. "I owe my very life to that man. He is the only reason I'm here today. The only reason why I turned out half-way decent."

AJ adjusted the light grip he had at her waist, effortlessly steering them to the right. "Undoubtedly Matthew showed you another path, but Mac, you should give yourself more credit. As that old saying goes, 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink'. He led you to where you needed to go, but after that, it was up to you as to whether or not you stayed the course."

Mac agreed. "Still, he's at the very least, the reason why I'm here."

"I'm very glad that you are, Mac. And I am confident in saying you've impacted the lives of those around you...just as positively as Matthew impacted yours. People notice your work ethic, the way you put others ahead of yourself, your quest to make rights out of wrongs….how you show people that they matter…all of those things do not go unnoticed, I assure you."

For the second time in a just matter of weeks, Mac was at a loss for words where it concerned her Commanding Officer. All this time, she had been living with the impression that her presence at JAG was inconsequential; moreover, another cog in the work wheel. She worked to keep her voice steady even while his sentiments worked to be a soothing balm on her emotional burns. "Thank you, AJ. That…that means an awful lot to me."

He fought the urge to shake his head in disbelief. How could she not know her value and worth, not just to the Corps, but to everyone that surrounded her? It was becoming painfully apparent that he would have to pay closer attention to the feedback given during her performance appraisals. Mac was an asset in so many ways, and he couldn't afford to lose her, or her abilities simply because he wasn't putting more effort into positive reinforcement.

"You're welcome, Mac. Everyone deserves to know how people feel about them, don't you think?" AJ gave a nearly imperceptible nod in Harm's direction while the song began to play its last notes. It was also becoming painfully obvious that his two top lawyers needed a gentle push – ok – a forceful shove, towards realizing and admitting their feelings for each other. He could deal with transferring one of them out of his direct command; what he couldn't deal with was losing both of them permanently or continuing to watch them grow more miserable each day trying to fight and hide how they felt. Besides….he'd already done some legwork and networking on how to keep at least one of them within his command, and permanently loan the other. He already had his pick: Mac for Judicial bench, while keeping Harm on investigations. Both would do well at their assigned positions.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Harm and Bud standing by the drink table, the younger lawyer laughing as Harm undoubtedly regaled him with one of his many Academy adventures. It warmed her heart to see the mentoring to which Harm had taken Bud under his wing, as though they were both the older and younger brother both always wanted.

"Never be afraid to take a chance, Mac." He stilled their movement as he prepared to relinquish his hold, giving her hand the briefest of squeezes. "Just so you're aware….I can't make a decision until you've made yours. All that needs to be done is paperwork."

A look of confusion crossed her face while she worked to digest his cryptic message.

_'What was he trying to say?'_

And then, with a sudden flash of clarity, understanding dawned upon her. AJ was letting her know there were options available for them; that neither had to give up their career in order to be together. That, in and of itself, was the greatest gift he could give.

Her watery grin conveyed the words she was unable to voice. "Understood, sir." She laughed slightly at the slip-up. "Thank you. For the dance. For…for everything." She took a step backwards to allow him by, but he stopped short, turning around to face her once more.

"Just remember, Colonel, us Navy men don't like to be kept waiting." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he winked so fast that Mac could have sworn she imagined it.

And then he was off to mingle with the other guests, leaving Mac to process the generous gift wrapped up in his parting words.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Seeing Sarah and AJ dancing and engaging in conversation, Matthew decided to seize the opportunity to talk one-on-one with the man who loved Sarah as much as he did. He wheeled over to where Harm stood at the buffet table, pouring a cup of punch for one of the attendees.

"Hey there Matt, did you enjoy catching up with James and Gary?" Harm asked, handing the drink to the guest, nodding with affirmation as the man thanked him before wandering back to a throng of people.

"I really did. I haven't seen those two in many, many years. I surely wasn't expecting to ever see them again." He shook his head when Harm offered a cup to him. "Say, how about we go out on the balcony for a minute? I could use some fresh air. All this pomp and circumstance is making me feel a little stuffed up." He winked, jovially referring to the regal party decorations and numerous guests that had already come to deliver birthday wishes.

Harm glanced over his shoulder to locate the object of his heart's desire, unwilling to be too far away from her. Mac was busy dancing with their C.O., and Bud and Harriet were also on the dance floor. Any degree of separation was too much for his liking. After a moment of deliberation, he acquiesced, taking hold of the Colonel's wheelchair and pushing him beyond the veranda doors. It was a beautiful night, patches of clouds drifting away to reveal a smattering of stars. Aside from the muffled noise from the festivities taking place just beyond the now-closed doors, it was pleasantly silent.

"It's so peaceful out there, isn't it?" Matthew remarked, taking a deep breath of frigid air. His eyes followed the erratic trail of a random snowflake as it drifted down, catching a slight gust of wind that whisked it away. Just as the snowflake was carried away by circumstances beyond its control, so was his time on Earth.

Harm surveyed their surroundings, agreeing with Matthew's observation. "It sure is. Reminds me of earlier this year when Mac and I got stranded in the Afghan desert. We swerved to miss a goat, and in the process, we ran over a landmine. It threw both of us out. I ended up stepping on a delayed pressure mine. Man….I thought I was a goner. But Mac got this crazy idea to swap my foot for the ammo box." Tears pricked his eyes at the memory of her willingness to endanger herself for him. "She planned to add her weight to it so it would buy me enough time to jump to safety before it detonated." He cleared his throat to dislodge the lump that suddenly formed. "We were miles from the nearest army base. We ended up sleeping under the stars that night. It was so quiet," he added, "and cold!" His mind faded away to the memory of that night, and how good it felt to have her wrapped up in his arms. While he had made the excuse to avoid hypothermia by sharing body heat, the truth was, after their close brush with death, the only thing that made his hands quit shaking and kept his heart from beating out of his chest was knowing she was tucked safely in his protective embrace. In his arms, no bombs could hurt her. In his arms, no landmines could take her away from him.

He could still recall, with vivid clarity, the silky crown of her head beneath his chin, the occasional whiff of the shampoo she used, and the rhythmic expansion and contraction of her chest against his as she slept. Surprisingly, she had been the first to fall asleep, and it had taken a long time for him to follow suite. He knew life would never afford him another chance to have her this close, so he willed himself to stay awake as long as he possibly could. Every subtle movement, each quiet murmur or breathless sigh was recorded with intense detail, then locked into the deepest recesses of his heart. He had never recalled sleeping as good as he did that night, despite laying on the unforgivingly hard terrain. The threat of being blown up or captured by rebel troops lurked menacingly within the murky shadows. But he didn't care. They were both alive. She was alive. Sleeping peacefully snuggled in his arms. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. As the stars blinked sleepily in the charcoal canvas of night, he pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead, pulled her as close as physically possible, and thanked the universe for giving him another day with her.

"So, when are you going to ask her?"

Matthew's unexpected question snapped him out of his desert memories. He turned his attention back to him, a look of apprehension covering his face. How could he have known his true feelings for Mac?

"I'm sorry?"

Matt coughed to cover his laugh. The man couldn't be this naïve to think he had everyone fooled, could he? "My niece. When are you going to ask her to marry you?"

Harm tugged at his suddenly uncomfortable tie, a strangled chuckle forcing its way out of his throat. "Uh, sir…."

"I didn't just roll off the pumpkin truck, Harm," Matt fixed him with a look to stop his rebuttal. "I had many a stubborn man serve under me during my years in the service, but I have to say, you are by far the most thickheaded one I ever met." He regarded the young lawyer with a sense of disbelief. "I know you love Sarah. Don't even try to deny it. I may be old, but I'm not easily fooled."

Harm swallowed thickly, feeling the icy tendrils of fear begin to slither up his spine. Had Matthew not watched him with careful scrutiny, he might have missed the almost imperceptible nod of agreement. But he remained quite while he waited for the younger man to pull his thoughts together. It was obvious that he was terrified of exposing himself to the maelstrom of emotions love brought with it.

His voice, nothing more than a pained whisper, forced Matthew to strain his ears to catch the words. "Yes sir, I do. For a long time."

A moment of silence drifted between the two as Matthew gave Harm the opportunity to come to terms with the confession he'd just spoken aloud. It nearly overwhelmed his heart to witness the powerful love this man held for his niece. Matt knew then, most assuredly, that the man standing before him would do all within power to protect her heart, lift her up, and walk with her through the lonely days undoubtedly to come.

"Son, don't you think it would be a good idea to let Sarah know how you feel? I imagine she already knows, but…she deserves to hear it. From you."

He braced his hands against the cold wrought iron railing, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fingers. The very thought of opening his heart made it contract with fear. "I….had worked up the nerve to tell her when I returned from the Patrick Henry investigation, but then you were in the hospital, and I didn't want to add more to her. Plus...I-I don't know, Matt. What if-, what if she…." His words halted on the breath of the wind as he found himself unable to voice aloud the paralyzing fear she would not love him in that way. It was just too risky; once the dice were rolled in this game of chance, there was no going back.

"Harm, no woman goes through three dress changes, two pairs of shoes, and critiques her appearance for fifteen minutes if she doesn't have feelings for you." Matthew chuckled softly, recalling Mac's anxiety-riddled preening. "Hell, she was so damn nervous she couldn't still her hands long enough to put her necklace on; it's why I had to ask you to do it."

Harm spun around to face Matthew, hardly believing what the older man had revealed.

_'Mac? Nervous? Because of me?!_'

Ever since their introduction, Harm had always known Mac to keep her wits about her, that veneer of Marine calmness an ever-present accompaniment. It kept him grounded, which was an incredible feat given his many ill-advised approaches in the search for truth and justice.

"I can see it in her eyes, Harm. She loves you. Deeply. She's IN...LOVE... WITH...YOU. And you are so very right for her. My Sarah deserves only the best. You ARE 'the best'. But you need to tell her, now. Don't wait until something happens," he gestured towards himself, referring to his terminal illness, "to make you step up to the plate. By then, time has stripped you to the bone and all you have left are painful yearnings of what could have been."

Harm paced back to the balcony overhang, folding his arms on top of the cold wrought iron. The Colonel's words swirled within his cerebral space, working to drive away his insecurities while simultaneously cutting the ropes, one by one, to the lifelines that seemed to drown him, yet kept him afloat for so long. "I'm not…really good with words. All I manage to do with them is cause her pain." He turned to face Matthew, his eyes suspiciously shiny in the high moonlight. "She's endured enough. I refuse to be the one to hurt her."

"Don't you think you'd hurt her more if you didn't tell her? Life is all about putting yourself out there, Harm. You, of all people, should know that. Sometimes you get shot down, sometimes you soar. Yeah, it's risky as hell," Matthew pointed to the velvet sky overhead, "but wouldn't you rather be up there in the sky, going after what you want, versus sitting on the ground watching everything pass you by?" It broke his heart to see the struggle play out on the canvas of emotions Harm had so beautifully painted yet tried to hide.

After a few seconds in silence, Harm turned to face Matthew once more, a look of determination, mixed with carefully disguised fear, having settled deep in his eyes. "How do I not screw this up? Tell me what to say." His words were nothing more than a whisper, but he may as well have been screaming with the desperation that laced them.

Matt shook his head. "I can't tell you what to say, Harm. That has to come from you," he pointed towards Harm's chest, "your heart. It always knows what to say. Just go with the moment. She knows you so well; better than you think." He grinned to lighten the moment, "I'd beg to wager, you may very well get a kiss out it."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of the stoic lawyer's mouth, the thought of kissing her sending cataclysmic waves crashing into his chest. He shoved his hands in his pockets in an effort to warm them. He'd made the same promise to two different men, and he'd be damned if he'd let either of them down.

"I say we'd better go back in before our mousy Marine sends a search party out to look for us."

Harm nodded in agreement, holding out his hand to shake Matthew's. "Thank you, sir. For everything."

Matt returned the handshake. "No thanks necessary. Just take care of her, Harm." He sniffed suddenly, biting his lip to keep control. "She's all I've ever loved and not lost in this world."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

:: END CHAPTER TWELVE::


	14. Chapter 13

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Thirteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed Fall 2017/Spring 2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2000

Georgetown Botanical Gardens

Georgetown, DC

Harm and Matt returned to the reception, and his eyes immediately sought her out. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found her sharing a dance with Bud.

Matthew motioned him to stoop so he could be heard over the hum of mixed conversations. "Do you mind wheeling me over to the DJ? I've got a few things I'd like to say to everyone."

"Absolutely." Harm maneuvered Matt over to the DJ's booth, handing him the microphone before stepping to the side.

He thumped it gently to check the sound, scanning the audience for his intended recipient. "May I have everyone's attention please, especially my niece, Sarah." The murmurs of conversation settled down as guests stilled their movements and listened in anticipation.

"First and foremost, I want to thank every single person in this room for coming out tonight, for leaving the comfort of your home, and spending the evening with a washed up ol' grunt like me." Matt paused, surveying the people in the room. "It's been said that a man spends his entire life wondering what the very meaning of life is. And few ever recognize that it can be found in the mirror….if only he is smart enough to realize it."

Several people nodded, raising their drink in agreement.

"At any rate, when I was just a young man, not much older than Mike Roberts," he nodded towards Bud's younger brother, "I had just left Fort Campbell from a de-briefing after an eight-month deployment in Bosnia. It also happened to be my 21st birthday. I had no plans to celebrate. All I wanted to do was get home and check on my mother and my sister." His eyes roamed over the room, noting the rapt attention with which he held his audience. "I'll never forget the look on my mother's face when I walked off the plane. She said to me, 'Deanne's in the hospital but she refuses to let me see her or the baby'." Clearing his throat, Matthew's eyes settled on Mac. "I was shocked. You see, I didn't even know my sister was pregnant. She never told me. The two of us had been very close up until the year I joined the military. Looking back, I realized she hated me for leaving because she thought I was leaving her."

Mac risked a sideways glance at Harm, recalling with a stab of pain when he'd said his goodbyes to her on his last day at JAG. He was returning to active flight status. He was leaving her. The hurt and disappointment she'd experienced in the wake of his departure had been enough to split her heart in two. It was an all-consuming, suffocating desolation that wrapped around her, pushing her to retreat from everything and everyone. And if his absence had not been painful enough, she received only sporadic emails from him and all of those were work related. No phone calls, no cards, no pictures. Nothing. It was as if his old life no longer mattered; it was as though they, she, amounted to nothing more than remnants of an unappetizing meal left behind. And rather than work to see things from his vantage point, she'd turned inward, the old familiar taunts of inferiority and insecurity crawling forth from the recesses her mind to remind her just where she stood in the eyes of the man she loved so much.

Matthew swallowed thickly to steady his voice. "But that couldn't have been further from the truth. I was trying to make a way for us. I wanted to take my sister with me, but I knew I couldn't do so until I got on my feet. It was during my first deployment that she met Joe…and well, I didn't approve of him right from the start. He didn't love her the way she deserved to be loved. The protective side of me came out, and Deanne didn't like it."

Harm's mind flashed back to the encounter he'd had with Dalton Lowne at JAG Headquarters after Mac had broken off their relationship. Right from the start, the man had given him the creeps, with the way he regarded Mac as though she were his fuck trophy….as though he had rights to her. The man set Harm on perpetual edge; made his skin crawl. In his eyes, no man would ever be good enough for her but him. But when he'd voiced his concerns to her, they'd come out as accusations. As per Rabb communication style, he'd managed to screw up the words and miscommunicate entirely his true feelings. In response to his lack of eloquence, she had quickly dismissed his sentiments. And, as per Mackenzie style, she'd gone on to rub salt in his wounds by reminding him his absence from her life had resulted in his forfeiture of rights to any input on her dating life. It had taken months for their relationship to return to its usual affection and banter, but not without a lot of challenging work on his end. In retrospect, Harm realized that his return to flying had nearly cost him the one thing he treasured above anything else.

Matthew continued. "In a way, I think she married him to spite me, to show me that she could hurt me in the way that I had hurt her. We went the better part of my second deployment not speaking. I'd send her letters almost every week, but she'd never write back. In my heart, I knew my sister was in trouble, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."

Mac looked down at her feet, the memory of her father's abuse invading her mind. Harm squeezed her hand gently, his silent way of communicating support.

"I've walked across miles of barren desert, knowing I was a sitting duck for the enemy. I've faced the business end of a sniper rifle more times than I cared to remember. And I've seen more fellow soldiers return home in body bags than I wanted to count. But nothing compared to how difficult it was for me to walk down that hospital corridor to her room. I was so afraid of what I would find." He wiped a hand across his eyes and he struggled to keep his breath. "So, imagine my utter relief when I pushed open that door and saw Deanne laying in that hospital bed. And then…..then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this tiny bundle moving."

Matthew's eyes settled on his niece. "I peered over into the incubator, and my heart just stopped. Deanne told me that she'd come early, she was a preemie." His voice quivered as he spoke, "My heart….this tough Marine's heart, just froze. This tiny baby…she just looked at me intently, as though she'd been waiting on me all my life. There were so many tubes and wires running in and out of her little body. I was terrified my rough ol' hands would hurt her."

By this point, sniffles were heard in the otherwise silent room, and there were few dry eyes to be found.

"The moment I picked that precious baby up in my arms," he choked, "all those damn war demons just fled into the distance. Sarah was so tiny, but damn it she came out fighting, all 4 lbs and 3 oz of her. I never knew I had a hole in my heart until she was in my arms. And I just wanted to cry because this beautiful little baby didn't even have a name. I knew that she probably wouldn't be raised with the riches of love and security like so many other children. So, I knew her name had to be strong and noble."

Matthew continued, "On the way to the combat zone, a buddy of mine gave me a cassette tape….told me it was music from a band he really liked, called 'Starship'. When I heard their song, 'Sara', I immediately fell in love with it. I listened to that song so much I nearly wore the tape out. And so, I decided to name my niece, Sarah. Sarah means "Princess" in Hebrew. He gestured over to Mac, who's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "We'll save that song for later. Right now, I'd like to ask my favorite girl in the whole world, to dance. That is, if she'll have an ol' fool like me." Matthew handed the microphone back to the DJ, then wheeled out to the middle of the floor. He held out his hand to Mac.

"Of course, Uncle Matt, it would be my honor to dance with the man who stole my heart all those years ago," she responded tearfully, joining her uncle in the now empty circle as everyone had moved away to allow them space on the dance floor. "But I don't want you wearing yourself out."

"I'll be fine. I want one last dance with you, Sarah." He put the brakes on his wheelchair, pushing away his footrests. Harm and AJ immediately strode forward, coming to stand on either side of him.

"I know we're not Marines, but we all stand behind our fellow soldiers no matter what," Harm stated, grasping Matthew's left hand with his and placing his other underneath his arm as AJ did the same. Mac stood in front of him, her hands outstretched in anticipation. In one fluid motion, the two officers lifted Matthew to his feet while Gunny stepped up to pull the wheelchair back. Matt took a moment to gather his footing, then grasped his niece's hands. Satisfied that he was steady on his feet, the two officers retreated to the sidelines, keeping within proximity should he need their assistance.

"See there, Sarah? I'm ok. Just takes me a minute, that's all."

Mac bit back the tears that threatened to gather. "I have all the time in the world for you, Uncle Matt." With a watery smile, she stepped into his arms, gently framing his face with her hand. She looked into his eyes, which for so many years had simply been her strength and stay. "Show this lady how a gentleman leads in a dance, will ya?"

Tenderly, he stroked her hand where it lay against his cheek, then pulled her close as she rested her head against his chest. "It would be my honor, Princess."

Soft strains of Eva Cassidy's voice filtered out into the dance floor, wrapping the pair in a sense of warmth and security.

"Midnights in winter

The glowing fire

Lights up your face in orange and gold….

I see your sweet smile

Shine through the darkness

It's line is etched in my memory

So I'd know you by heart…..

Matthew's mind travelled back to the moment he first laid eyes on his niece, just a few hours old yet with the wisdom of elders having already settled deep within her big brown eyes. The moment he had spoken to her, a smile lit up her tiny face, branding his heart forever. It was, indeed, etched in his memory.

Mornings in April

Sharing the secrets

We'd walk on till the morning was gone

As the pair danced slowly, Harriet discreetly snapped several photos, having to periodically take her eyes from the viewfinder to wipe the moisture on her cheeks. The camera had been a lucky find at her local thrift store, but this evening, it was proving to be worth far more than the $20 spent to purchase it. It was important to her to capture these moments. It was important because she knew moments such as these, just as the last time she held her daughter before her tiny body was lowered into the grave, would never come again.

We were like children

Laughing for hours

The joy you gave me

Lives on and on

'Cause I know you by heart….

"You have given me so much joy, Sarah, so much joy. Ever since you came into this world and into my heart." Matthew whispered into her ear, his voice choking with emotion. "You brought me back to life after I saw so much death."

I still hear your voice

On warm summer nights

Whispering like the wind

Ohhh, ohhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhh

Matt covered the back of her head with a shaking head, as he tucked her closer, willing his legs to hold up just a little bit longer. Even still, he knew Mac was bearing a good bit of his weight.

You left in autumn

The leaves were turning

I walked down roads of orange and gold

Mac hugged him tightly, noting the irony of the song as it was indeed, autumn, and the leaves were turning, just as her uncle's time was turning. "I don't want you to leave me, Uncle Matt" she sobbed into his shoulder, her tears seeping into the collar of his shirt.

I saw your sweet smile

I heard your laughter

You're still here beside me

Everyday

The tough old Marine squeezed his eyes shut to try to keep the tears in but was unsuccessful, and the tears streamed down his face. "I don't want to leave you either, baby, but just know I'll always be by your side. Don't forget, I know you by heart, remember?"

'Cause I know you by heart…

'Cause I know you by heart…

As the last few notes faded away, Mac felt more of his weight leaning on her, and she nodded at AJ, Gunny, and Harm standing just a few feet away. The trio hastened to position the wheelchair and eased Matthew back into it just as his shaky legs gave way. She clasped his hands, kissing them softly as she knelt in front of him, her eyes glistening.

"That dance meant more to me than you'll ever know, Uncle Matt," she whispered, "I'll never love another man as much as I love you."

Matt chuckled, glancing up at Harm, who stood behind him, then back at her. "Never say never, Sarah. I have a suspicious feeling I've been sharing your heart since the day that man over there put his life on the line for me in Arizona."

She followed his gaze, a shy smile gracing her lips. He was right. She'd kept Harm tucked away in the dark recesses of her heart, afraid of rejection, of not being worthy enough for his love. Matthew gently held her chin as he whispered fiercely, "You ARE good enough. You ARE worthy enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH, Sarah. For anyone. Including him. Take it from someone who wishes he could go back in time and change things. Sarah, take the risk and tell him. He deserves to know how you feel. And goodness knows you deserve his love. You deserve to be happy." He interrupted her with a shake of his head. "Sarah, I won't be there physically when you two get married or when you bring your children into this world, but know that I will be by your side, always, and in all ways. I'm just a smile and a memory away." He cleared his throat, then thumbed at the tears that had streaked her cheek. "Now I believe this handsome man over here was next in line on your dance card."

Harm nodded in appreciation towards Matt, then held out his hand to Mac. "I'd like to have this dance with you, Sarah."

The DJ changed the music, and the beginning strains of Hammock begin to filter across the quiet dance floor. The lights slowly dimmed, casting them in an ambient glow.

He gathered her close in his arms, reveling in the way Mac fit so perfectly against him. It was as though she'd been made specifically for him. With his previous girlfriends, it always felt forced, like a pair of too-small shoes one bought because they couldn't find anything better. It amazed him in where he was hard and unyielding, she was soft and giving. She felt so good, so right. How he could go the rest of his life without ever feeling like this again, he did not know. But he was determined that tonight would not be the end of the road for him…for them. It just couldn't.

With one hand resting at her hip, the other holding her hand against his chest, he was certain that this was as close to heaven as he would ever get. And he was quite certain that she could feel the erratic beating of his heart. He rested his cheek against hers, marveling at the softness of her skin when he would subtly turn to nuzzle his nose against the underside of her ear. The movement brought a pleasant chill to her skin, which did not go unnoticed. As the soft music weaved a cocoon around them, the world seemed to peel away, faces of those in the crowd disappearing into the distance. The fear of what impression they were giving their audience no longer registered, even in the darkest recesses of his mind. All that mattered in that moment was the wonderful way she felt in his arms, and frankly, he just didn't care anymore. He didn't care what anyone thought and he was tired of fighting his feelings. Tired of fighting the external forces that tried so hard to keep them apart. Tired of worrying about regulations, careers, ramifications. Harm was just tired.

Mac willed her heart to steady itself within her chest as the warmth from his hand seeped through the layers of her clothing. Ever the gentleman, he kept his hands from venturing into inappropriate territory, but it surely did not leave her without longing for more….much more from this man. She rested her free hand on the side of his neck, the other hand pleasantly trapped against his chest where she could feel the beating of his heart. The way he subtly nuzzled her cheek, her ear…. left her breathless. Aware that they had a captive audience, she clamped down on her urge to turn her head just mere inches and act on the flaming desire that had been burning in the depths of her heart for so many years. Instead, she contented herself with focusing on the on-and-off puffs of breath against her ear. All that mattered was she was in his arms. In that moment, she knew then she could never live another day without him knowing how she felt. Consequences be dammed.

A sense of calm satisfaction settled on AJ's face as he watched the pair relax in step with each other. There was not a shred of doubt, in his mind, that the handsome Commander and the beautiful Colonel, were made for each other. Despite his relationship with Sydney Walden having drowned in the ocean, taking his heart with it, AJ still believed in real, abiding love. The kind that even the strongest tempest of fate could not rip apart. And if it couldn't be him to find that kind of love, at least it could be found between two of the finest people he'd ever had serve in his command. A quick glance in Matthew's direction confirmed that he was not alone in his sentiments.

All too soon, the last notes of the song faded into the distance, and the two were forced to return to reality. "Sarah," he whispered, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear it. She raised an eyebrow in hesitant curiosity, eager to know what was on his mind, but nervous to find out. He moved both hands to her waist, his grip light and steadfast. Expecting him to let her go, her heart quivered when he gently tugged her closer.

"I don't want to let you go, but I have to. Just know, we're not done here." He whispered the words into her ear, following them with the barest of kisses to her cheek. "Dinner with me. Friday night?" His eyes searched hers earnestly for a sliver of hope to cling to.

She was overwhelmed by the storm of emotions brewing within her, but one look into his eyes and she knew then, he was ready. Whatever bonds had previously restrained him from revealing his feelings were now broken. She accepted his proposal with a nod, responding with her eyes what her mouth could not articulate

"Good." His voice was soft as a flash of relief crossed his face. He tucked her closer and the corners of his mouth quirked up. "Good."

"How about a toast to the one and only, Colonel Matthew Thomas O'Hara" Bud called out, his sudden but jovial announcement startling them out of their intimate moment. He raised his glass, tapping it enthusiastically. "Here here!"

"For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good felllllloooooow…that NOBODY CAN DENY! HOO RAH!" the crowd chanted out, ending the salute in a round of applause and clapping.

The spell was effectively broken between them, and the two were forced to break apart for the evening. He led her back to where Matt sat at the table, giving her hand the slightest of squeezes before forcing himself to walk away. He knew if he were to look at her any longer, he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, and this was certainly not the time or place where he wanted to kiss the living daylights out of her.

Matthew bore a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat when Mac settled in beside him. "It looks like you thoroughly enjoyed that dance, Sarah."

Mac's face turned a lovely shade of crimson, but for the first time, she looked him in the eye when it came to the topic of Harm. "I did, Uncle Matt." A bashful smile crossed her face. "It was really nice."

"You dance so beautifully together; not many people do. But when two people are made for each other, they are capable of such beautiful and extraordinary things."

She eyed him with skepticism. "Do you really think so, Uncle Matt?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I KNOW so. Now, you better tell your man how you feel before he gets away!"

Her gaze followed Harm's figure while he drifted into the throng of people. "Something tells me, Uncle Matt, he won't let me get too far out of his sight." She turned to face her uncle once more, a feeling of peaceful resolution settling within her. She was tired of running. It was time to face her feelings…time for them to face their feelings. She was ready.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2200

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, DC

Shortly after the last attendee bid farewell to Matthew, the last few boxes of decorations were loaded into the back of Harm's SUV and the leftover party food was portioned into plastic containers. Gunny and Tiner had graciously offered to dismantle the decorations, for which she was immensely grateful. It allowed her to get Matt home quicker, and the sooner, the better. The party had only lasted a few hours, but to Mac, it felt like it passed by in a flash. She hated to see the night end, mostly because she hadn't seen her uncle so happy in such a long time. However, as the evening wore on, it was obvious the four hours spent sitting in a wheelchair was taking its toll. The ride back to the apartment was spent in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts from the events of the day.

The moment they walked through the doors, she immediately toed off her heels, tossing her purse and keys on the entryway table. "As much fun as tonight was, these shoes have long ago worn out their welcome."

Harm shook his head in befuddlement. Women! "I'll never understand why you ladies like to torture yourself with those things. I have yet to see a pair that looked even remotely comfortable." He shut and locked the front door before wheeling Matt over to the bed.

She called over her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen to set up his nighttime medications. "Remember what I said all those years ago? All a woman needs is a good man, a good career, and-"

"Shoes! Lots and lots of comfortable shoes!" Harm finished with a grin as he retrieved a pair of Matt's pajamas from the pile of folded laundry on the couch. He effortlessly transferred Matthew onto the side of the bed before handing him the flannel material.

"Well Sarah, it looks to me like you've got two out of three, which, according to _Meatloaf_, ain't bad!" Matt quipped, earning him a playful yell of protest from the direction of the kitchen. He stifled a yawn, clearly exhausted from the events of the evening. "I'm afraid I'll be asleep as soon as my head hits this pillow."

"I'm sorry we kept you out so late. I know you're exhausted. Let me help you get changed and comfortable." Harm maneuvered the wheelchair out of the way, sidestepping a box of adult briefs sitting beside the bed. He hated to ask, but aware Matthew had not been to the restroom all evening, it was imperative he was clean and dry. He jerked his head towards the box. "You need another one?"

A quick glance over his shoulder assured him that Mac, still in the kitchen preparing his medications, was out of earshot. "No. I don't take in much these days, so…" he gestured towards his lap, "not a lot of output."

Harm gave a brief nod of understanding, then moved to assist Matt out of his sportcoat, tie, and dress-shirt. He kept the topic of conversation centered on the party to avoid making Matt feel uncomfortable. Harm left him to button the flannel shirt as he knelt to untie his shoes and change his pants. While Mac was undoubtedly in great physical shape, her uncle was nearly 6'4, and even in his weakened state, Harm guessed that he outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She did not need to bear more weight than necessary. Moreover, Harm, being a man of honor, wanted to preserve the elder Colonel's dignity. It was the least he do.

Once the shoes were off and set aside, Harm motioned for him to stand so he could remove his dress pants. He held steady as Matt gripped his shoulders for support, then quickly swapped out the pants for the pajama bottoms. His heart sank as he noticed the wasting away of muscle tone. Mac was right; his rapid weight loss over the course of two weeks forced him to agree with her opinion that the doctor overestimated his lifespan.

After another minute, Matthew was dressed and comfortable. He gave a sigh of contentment and adjusted the nasal cannula in his nose, reaching for the covers Harm had pulled from the foot of the bed. Although exhausted, he would not have traded the evening for any amount of money. He motioned for Harm to take a seat in the bedside chair.

"Harm, there are not enough words to thank you for all you did. No one has ever gone to such lengths to make my birthday so special. It truly was one of the best nights of my life." He gestured towards the kitchen, where Mac was returning the tops to the medication bottles. "I don't think I've ever seen her more at peace than when she was dancing with you. I hope you'll consider what I said."

A smile gathered at the corners of Harm's mouth. "I'm taking her out next Friday evening." He shifted his weight in the chair, keeping a watchful eye on the kitchen. "There's this little café by the riverfront. I am good friends with the owner, so I think we'll be able to talk without any interruptions, and it's neutral territory...so to speak. I don't want to rush or screw things up between us. She is too important to me."

"Agreed wholeheartedly." Matt patted his knee in fatherly affection and winked. Mac returned from the kitchen with medications in one hand and a cup of a rather unappetizing liquid in the other. She gave him an apologetic smile and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled a face.

"Sorry Uncle Matt, but you know what time it is."

Harm reached beside him to fill a water glass as she dispensed three capsules into her uncle's hand. He took the glass of water and downed the wad of pills before reaching for the cup.

"Liquid protein." She answered Harm's unasked question. "It helps with healing the wound on his sacral area. He's developed a small ulcer. The wound doctor doesn't want it to get worse."

Harm peered into the cup, then wrinkled his nose. "It smells terrible."

"It tastes just like it looks. But it's the doctor's, and her," he pointed a finger at Mac, "orders." He downed the liquid quickly, then folded his arms across his chest and gave her a mock glare. "We all know that baby duck here gets what she wants. Well, most of the time, anyway."

Hearing the term of endearment again, it made him curious. "There's gotta be an intriguing story behind that nickname of yours, Marine."

Matt grinned. "Deanne would bring Sarah by to visit when she was just a toddler. She could hardly see over her nose! She'd follow me around everywhere I went, ask me a thousand questions, imitate everything I did. If I had my shirt off while out in the yard, Sarah would be out there with no shirt, too."

Mac laughed at the memory. "I remember when mom made me start wearing clothes outside. I was so mad!"

"You sure were! Your momma didn't have a clue how to deal with you!." He looked at Mac affectionately, taking her hand in his. "One day, I took her to the park to feed the ducks. I noticed how the baby ducks would all follow the mama. They'd follow her out of the water, cross the sidewalk, down the other side of the bank, and back into the water. All the while they would just be noisily quacking. Quack, quack, quack! It occurred to me that Sarah was just like one of those little ducks. She followed me everywhere and was constantly asking questions. So, I started calling her "baby duck" and it just…well…stuck!"

"You know, the sad part is, I've answered to it ever since!" Mac chuckled as she rose to her feet, smoothing the blankets where she'd rumpled them. "And with that, it's way past your bedtime, mister."

"Yes ma'am, it sure is!" He reached out to shake Harm's hand. "Thanks again, for everything."

"My pleasure, Matt. Get some rest."

"Give me a second to put on my coat so I can walk you out" Mac offered, reaching for her coat she had laid on the back of the couch.

He shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her arm to stop her. "No, Mac. You stay in here where it's warm. I don't want you out in this cold again. Besides," he flashed her a teasing smile, "I think I can manage to find the exit on my own."

Rolling her eyes, she pocketed the apartment keys before handing him his leather gloves. "Well, at least let me walk you downstairs. The outer door tends to stick a little if you're not careful. And I need to check the mail." The latter part was a bit of a lie, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she reasoned. The truth was, she was not ready for him to leave.

He considered her offer a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Fair enough. But you're not so much as stepping a toe out that door. It's 14 degrees below freezing. No arguments!"

She gave him a reproachful look, then turned to address her uncle. "I'm going to walk Harm out and check the mail. I'll be back in a minute. Don't wait up for me."

He gave her a thumbs up sign and turned over on his side, fighting back a laugh. She really didn't think he was that clueless, did she?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mindful of the late hour, Harm and Mac were quiet as they waited for the elevator to descend to the lobby. Before she realized it, they were standing at the front entrance. For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say.

Both spoke simultaneously, causing each to laugh and break the awkwardness. Ever the gentleman, Harm gestured for her to go first.

"I know I keep saying this, but thank you, Harm. My uncle was so happy tonight. I honestly don't know what I -we - would do without you in our lives." She squeezed his hand gently, his gloved hands soft against her bare fingers.

"It was my pleasure, Mac, I promise you that. I…I just wish I could make every day this good for him...And you. I know those will be hard to come by very soon." The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to kick himself in the teeth. She didn't need another reminder!

_'Damn it Rabb, you just had to put your foot in your mouth, didn't you?_'

He cleared his throat, in awkward embarrassment, and looked down at his shoes.

She tipped his chin up gently, forcing him to look at her. "Every day with you in it, Harm, is a good day. Always." A bashful smile crossed her face and she let out a quivering breath. The way he was looking at her…

Suddenly his brain froze solid: somewhere in the back of his mind, her gentle touch and words of endearment registered. Her eyes twinkled softly with emotions he could not entirely decipher. The way she was looking at him….

"Friday night. Eighteen hundred. I'll pick you up. Don't forget." he blurted out when his mind finally disengaged.

"Locked down and committed to memory, sailor." She shivered when a fellow dweller entered the building, sending a blast of icy air in her direction. He tugged her closer to ward off the chill. "So, what should I wear? I mean….I….well….uh, is this a date?"

_'Damn it MacKenzie! Keep it together_!

She was nervous, and it was showing, despite her efforts to keep herself calm.

He studied her thoughtfully for a long moment, almost long enough to make her think he was having second thoughts.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I read too much into it" she waved her hand in the air, "Just forget that last part."

"No! No….no. Not at all." He reached out to grab her hand before she could pull it away. "Wear a pretty dress. For me." The words tumbled over themselves, and he inwardly cringed at the ineloquent request.

'_Geez Rabb, the fifteen year old kid next door is smoother than that!'_

"Okay then….for you," her eyes sparkled with something he couldn't quite put his finger on, "I'll wear the prettiest one I have." She smiled, then stood on her toes to deliver a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight flyboy. Let me know when you make it home." Although she was about ready, to fall into bed from sheer exhaustion, she would not sleep until he was safely home.

"I will. You have my word." The solemn promise came out in a husky whisper. His eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. God how he wanted to lose himself in her! But he knew, if he were to kiss her now, he would not be able to leave. "Goodnight, ninja-girl." He touched her cheek gently, then forced himself to exit the building quickly before the irrational side of him could toss his resolve to the wind.

She lingered at the door, the seepage of cold air doing nothing to curb the heat that had risen to her cheeks at his simple gesture. She waved to him, although he could not see her, until his SUV turned the corner and was out of sight. A goofy smile crossed her face. She shook her head at the ridiculous reaction.

_'Good grief MacKenzie, he didn't even kiss you and you're already smiling like some teenager who just got her first kiss!'_

The trek back to the apartment was spent analyzing every second of the deliciously sweet moments that just transpired, until she felt her mind would explode with fatigue-induced giddiness. She entered the apartment quietly, careful not to make any noise. Noticing her uncle was asleep, she reached over and switched off his bedside lamp, then settled herself on the couch. But as she made herself comfortable beneath the covers, Matt's sleepy voice emerged from across the room.

"So, the mail runs twice now, eh?"

Shit.

She'd forgotten she'd handed him birthday cards that afternoon.

Cards from that day's mail delivery.

She rolled her eyes but worked to keep the smile of out her voice, thankful he couldn't see her face in the pressing darkness that surrounded them. "Go to sleep, Uncle Matt!"

"Ohhh…..I get it now…." Matt feigned understanding, "You definitely 'got male'. Just not the paper kind."

"GO. TO. SLEEP!" She gave an exasperated laugh as she pulled the covers up and closed her eyes. Her uncle's fading laughter echoed in her ear while the burning touch of Harm's fingers against her cheek quickly lulled her to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

:: END CHAPTER THIRTEEN::


	15. Chapter 14

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Fourteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0700 MT

Monday

Harm's Apartment

Union Station

The omelette popped and sizzled in the skillet as Harm slid it onto a plate to cool, tendrils of steam leaping up only to dissolve in the cooler air. He turned to pluck the wheat bread from the toaster, hastily dropping two piping hot slices on a separate plate. As he reached in the refrigerator to retrieve the butter tub, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller I.D.

It was Trish Burnette, his mother.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he accepted the call, pinning the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could continue preparing breakfast.

"Hey mom, how's it going?" He glanced at his watch; it was 0700, which meant it was 0400 on the West coast….too early for his mother to be calling. He voiced his concern. "Everything okay? You usually never call this early".

Her voice muffled briefly before clearing across the line. "Hey sweetheart. Well," more muffling, with his step-father, Frank, fussing in the background, "everything was going great until Frank broke his arm yesterday evening. We just now got home from the hospital".

He paused in his buttering of wheat toast and settled himself on a nearby kitchen stool. From the sound of it, he felt the conversation might be a long one. "Good grief Mom! What happened?"

A tired sigh escaped her, and Harm heard his step-father faintly call out to greet him. "He was replacing the bulbs in the garden lightpost when the ladder slipped. Fell six feet and landed on his side. Dislocated his shoulder, too. It's a miracle he-". She stopped in mid sentence, suddenly aware of the time difference. "Oh dear, you're trying to get ready for work, aren't you? I'm so sorry!"

Harm shook his head even though the gesture was lost on her. "Don't you worry about me. Is Frank going to be okay?"

"He's fine, a bit uncomfortable at the moment. Thankfully, the break was a clean one so they were able to set it without too much difficulty. However, they did send him home in a sling for his shoulder". As she spoke, she assisted her husband into his favorite recliner, propping his plastered arm on a pillow before laying a blanket over him.

"That's good to know". A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Aren't you guys supposed to be moving this week?"

After a tropical storm had destroyed the Burnett's beach-front home eight months prior, they'd been renting an unfurnished condo while the new house was being built elsewhere. They were able to salvage a few things from their flooded home before insurance razed it. The now-vacant beachfront property was sold, and the two purchased another lot just a few miles down the road. The new location set substantially higher on a hillside while offering additional protection at the hands of a small inlet.

"I've always said Frank has terrible timing," she let out a breathless laugh as she dumped a basket of clean laundry onto the couch to fold, "he sure proved it this weekend! We're supposed to vacate the condo by the end of the month, but I don't see how in the world we can get everything done in two weeks' time, especially with him out of commission".

Taking a sip of his coffee, Harm bit off a piece of buttered toast. "How about I hire a moving company to pack and move everything for you?"

"Harmon, don't talk with your mouth full," she admonished.

He pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at it incredulously, then shook his head, and swallowed the wad of toast. "Sorry Mom".

"At any rate", she continued without missing a beat, "I already looked into that option. With the holidays coming up, all the moving companies in the area are booked solid for the next three weeks. I'm just glad I was able to reserve a moving trailer". Trish settled herself on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her. Seeing as it was 0515 in the morning, the laundry could wait. She was exhausted, and besides...Frank had drifted off the sleep, the pain medications having taken effect. She might as well rest while the moment presented itself.

The hesitation was evident in her voice. "Harm, this is reaching for the stars; I don't know if there is any way possible, but-"

He cut her off, already three steps ahead of her. "I will ask the Admiral if I can snag the weekend off. I've got trial all this week that I can't postpone. The earliest I could expect to fly out is Saturday". His date with Mac was one he was not willing to cancel, not even for his mother. "If I can get permission, would that work for you?"

Her gratitude flowed over the line connecting the two. "Oh Harmon, that would be just wonderful. I hate to impose on you, but you're my only option at this point. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have my back against the wall". She hated to take him away from his job, but Frank's unexpected injury had put them on a pressing timeline.

He dismissed her apology. "You're not imposing, Mom. Let me talk to the Admiral when I get to work".

"We have a bed in the guest room, so you'll have a place to sleep. Oh, and we'll buy your ticket. No arguments!" She looked over at Frank, who was sound asleep, snoring rather loudly. "Frank insists".

"Mom, based on the snoring I hear in the background, I think it's safe to assume Frank is unable to commit to such a thing," he teasingly called her out, "and I can buy my own ticket, you know".

"Yes, yes" she clucked, "I know you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, but let us take care of YOU this one time. It's the least we can do. At any rate, I need to quit bending your ear so you can get to work and I can get in a nap. I'm exhausted".

Pinning the phone against his ear once more, he cleared the breakfast dishes from the counter and loaded them in the dishwasher. "Alright mom, get some rest. I'll call you in a little bit. Love you".

"Thanks sweetheart, love you too. Talk to you soon".

The line disconnected, leaving Harm to pull his thoughts back to his morning routine. He checked his watch, grimacing when the big hand hovered over the half-hour mark. If he didn't hurry, his ass would be late for staff call. Not a good way to start the morning with the Admiral, especially since he needed to ask for time off. With any luck, he would be in a good mood and would grant the leave.

While most of his time would be spent moving boxes and heavy furniture, the idea of spending an extended weekend in sunny California certainly was appealing. The dreary, boorish weather on the East Coast was beginning to grate his nerves; the opportunity to thaw out a bit was one he certainly welcomed with open arms. His toes already itched with anticipation of digging them in the warm sandy beaches.

If only Mac could go with him…

'Better get your six in gear, Rabb. Staff call in an hour!'

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he headed towards the bedroom to finish dressing, eager to get to work and secure his leave.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1430

Friday

Third Floor, JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

The courtroom doors swung shut behind Mac, signaling the end to a more than satisfactory trial. She'd managed to pocket another win for the month after sufficiently proving her client's innocence. A hunch earlier in the week had led Mac down the proverbial rabbit hole; had she not learned to trust her gut, she would have abandoned the small lead, thus erroneously pinning the blame on her client. Lt. Singer had been left to review the more-than-fair plea deal Mac had kindly left on the table.

She pressed the elevator call button, allowing her mind to drift while she waited for its arrival. With another victory under her belt, the afternoon was looking up, especially considering what was planned later that evening.

A date….

With him.

Just the very thought made her heart flutter in nervous anticipation!

He had asked her on a date. Harmon Rabb, the man notorious for shying away from anything that remotely forced him to discuss the future of their relationship. Or lack thereof. It seemed, that each time she put her heart on the line, willing to take the next step, he'd backpedaled, fleeing in the opposite direction. To anyone else, it was quite obvious that he was scared, but in her mind, it felt like rejection. She'd often wondered what made him reject her. Was it due to his inability to commit, or due to his finding her undesirable? Regardless, it seemed that now he was ready to at least meet her halfway.

Or was he?

A hint of doubt slithered its way into her mind. Aside from their brief encounter following staff meeting on Monday morning, during which he'd informed them of Frank's injury and his subsequent request for leave, he had yet to mention it. In fact, he'd given no inclination at all that he even remembered it. Did he want to back out, not knowing how to tell her?

_'Yeah, but you've barely been at Headquarters, remember?'_

It wasn't an incorrect statement, she reasoned. She was only working three half-days a week, her time relegated between off-site investigations or the office. He was still juggling a full caseload, in addition to extra duties resulting from her family care leave. So it was to be expected both were swamped. Their interactions, whenever they encountered each other, were sporadic and centered upon work. When she'd bumped into him in the breakroom earlier that morning, he hadn't said a word, even after the Admiral had wished him success in getting them moved in. Harm had expressed appreciation for the time off, considering they were already short-staffed, to which AJ merely waved him off with a gruff, "Family comes first". Even so, he hadn't breathed a word about the approaching evening.

But then again, it was the Admiral; she knew Harm well enough to know he kept his personal business out of the office, if it could be avoided.

He wasn't hoping she'd forgotten about it, was he?

_'Quit creating scenarios that don't exist, Mackenzie! Harm's a man of his word. Have you ever known him not to keep his word?_'

She pondered this for a moment, and after comforting herself with this rationale, she waved the nagging thought away like a pesky gnat. The last thing she wanted to argue with was her conscience.

"Ma'am? Are you riding down?"

The sudden vocal intrusion startled her. She looked up to find a young Lieutenant J.G. holding the elevator doors open, an inquisitive look overtaking his sharp features.

She quickly nodded, stepping into the chamber. "Yes, forgive me, Lieutenant. My mind was elsewhere". She flashed an apologetic smile and motioned towards the courtroom as if to offer explanation. "Long day".

"No worries, ma'am". He set down his briefcase to introduce himself. "Lieutenant J.G. Williamson. I'm applying for the internship program here at JAG. I'm scheduled to interview with an Admiral A.J…." he glanced at the paper in his left hand, "Cheg….".

"Chegwidden" she supplied, chuckling softly. "It gets even the best of us". She returned his handshake. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie". The doors dinged, signaling the arrival to the bottom floor. "I'm heading that way, if you would like to follow. My office is next door to the Admiral's".

"Yes ma'am, thank you. I would appreciate that".

She regarded him with a look of amusement mixed with fondness. It was obvious that he was apprehensive, and it reminded her of how she'd felt the first day she'd stepped foot in the Admiral's office. He'd sounded quite intimidating during the phone interviews leading up to her official appointment, but standing in front of him was an entirely different matter. His reputation of being a hard-ass preceded him across all branches, leaving her quite anxious on what to expect after receiving word of her new assignment. Thankfully, her assignment at JAG had turned out to be far better than she could have imagined.

"You'll be alright, Lieutenant. He's quite amenable. Except when the Dodgers lose. Then it's a different story". She laughed as the doors opened, and as per senior officer protocol, she exited first.

"I hear congratulations are in order, Mac. Nice job on closing arguments". Sturgis commented, falling into step with them when they rounded the corner and passed thru the double glass doors that opened into the bullpen.

"Thank you, Sturgis," she stopped outside her office to introduce the young Lieutenant. "Lieutenant J.G. Williamson, this is Lieutenant Commander Sturgis Turner. He's here to meet with the Admiral regarding the internship position".

Sturgis accepted the man's handshake. "Ah yes, I heard Petty Officer Coates mention your name this morning. She'll get you taken care of," he gestured towards Coates' desk. "Good luck".

"Yes sir, thank you. And thank you ma'am. I appreciate the advice". The young man tipped his head in a show of respect and made out for the Admiral's office across the bullpen.

Sturgis followed Mac into her office. "So, any big plans this weekend?"

Mac deposited her briefcase on the desk, grateful that he couldn't see her face. It gave her a moment to collect herself. She really didn't know what to say, especially to Sturgis...she didn't know how much she could trust him.

He couldn't know, could he?

He could be rather nosy at times….

With this at the forefront of her thoughts, Mac chose to hold her cards close. "Um, no…no, not really. You?"

"Same here. I was going to see if Harm was available tonight for some basketball or a round of pool at McMurphy's". He propped his tall frame against the doorjamb, watching her with mild amusement while she puttered about the office. Based on the fact he'd accidentally overheard Harm making a phone call for dinner reservations that weekend, and he'd dropped his Corvette off to be detailed, Sturgis was willing to bet solid money his buddy already had big plans for the evening. Plans that most certainly did not involve basketball. Or McMurphy's. Or him, for that matter. Could it be the old lug was finally fulfilling the promise he'd made on the Patrick Henry?

He could only hope….

Mac's heart skittered in her chest and she busied herself with gathering a stack of case folders that suddenly needed to be filed.

_He hasn't backed out on me, has he? Is that why he didn't say anything in the breakroom this morning?_

_'Stop it Mackenzie! How would Sturgis know Harm has dinner plans with you tonight?'_

"Oh?" she managed to ask, turning to open the filing cabinet with one hand while juggling the stack with the other. The death grip she had on the heavy folders helped to disguise her shaky hands.

"Here, let me get that". Sturgis reached to open the top drawer, relieving her of some of the folders. "I had to give him a ride to work today".

Mac's head snapped up at this, an element of concern clouding her delicate features. "A ride? Is everything ok?"

Sturgis fought the urge to laugh at the situation. She couldn't think he was this obtuse, did she? "As far as I know, it is. He's having his 'Vette detailed. I didn't think he drove it much, considering what happened a few years ago". He finished filing the case folders and moved to exit the office, pausing at the threshold. "At any rate, we're leaving here in a few minutes so he can pick it up. You need me to sign anything on the Hadley case before I go?"

Mac was quiet for a moment as the information permeated her brain.

_'See?' You're overreacting. He's probably getting it detailed so it will be clean for tonight!'_

An inexplicable surge of relief coursed through her and she shook her head. "Ah, no. I, uh, I need to finish writing up my recommendations. I'll get that from you on Monday, if that's okay?" She flashed him a smile in the hopes he wouldn't notice her uncharacteristic anxiousness.

"Yeah, no big deal," he shrugged, "enjoy your weekend, Mac". He tapped the doorframe in farewell on his way out, chuckling to himself. Something was definitely going on! Fortunately, there was a whole twenty minute drive with Harm during which he could put his interrogation skills to use.

"You too," she called out after him, but her words were swallowed by the hum of office equipment outside her door. Shutting the filing drawer, she splayed her hands in front of her: they were still trembling.

_'Get a grip Mackenzie!'_

With a sigh, Mac glanced across the bullpen into her partner's office, noting his head was bent studiously over a tower of files that nearly hid him. The knowledge that her absence from work was the cause of his situation made her cringe with guilt. Friday evening was something she had been looking forward to since Matthew's birthday party, and a part of her sank when he'd explained Frank's injury and his plans to fly to California to help them over the coming weekend. A part of her was selfish in that she didn't want to give him up, even for a few days.

_'Shame on you, Mackenzie! You're being selfish! Trish and Frank need his help. He's already bending over backwards to cover your caseload and help you take care of Matthew. Besides, it's been months since he's been to see them'._

With bitter realization, she admitted her conscience was right. He had been spending most his free time helping her. What more could she ask for?

Realizing she still had to close the Hadley trial before she could secure for the day, she pushed her feelings away and forced herself to return her attention to the task at hand. Keeping an eye on the time, she sat down to hastily write up the settlement offer, her thoughts anywhere but on the case.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1500

Harm's Office

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

Sturgis poked his head in Harm's office, jingling a set of car keys. "It's 1500 bud. Time to head out. You ready?"

Momentarily startled, Harm glanced at the clock on his desk, noting that indeed, the hands pointed at three in the afternoon. "Oh! Thanks Sturgis". He signed the file he'd been working on before tossing it on the growing stack to his left. "I completely lost track of the time." He came from around his desk to retrieve his coat and cover. "I really appreciate the lift, man".

"Not a problem. Besides, it gives me a minute to pick your brain over the Sanders case". He stepped aside so Harm could close up his office.

"Pick away, my friend", he chuckled as the two made their way towards the exit, "but I will give you fair warning, my brain is fried from this week".

"And that's different from every week, how?" Sturgis smirked, earning a playful punch in the arm.

Despite serving in the same branch, there was still a healthy dose of rivalry between the two, but at the end of the day, their long-standing friendship always brought them back together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For most of the ride, the two discussed Sturgis' case involving intent to illegally obtain and disburse scrap military property. His client was charged with both, despite the property having been classified as decommissioned and ready for public disposal. The prosecution's tentative plea bargain included dishonorable discharge with three years in prison, but Sturgis wanted a lesser sentence. He argued that the military property was not classified nor was it worth any substantial amount of money, and his client was using what little money it would generate to fund his education. It was certainly a stupid mistake, Sturgis wholeheartedly agreed, but it didn't warrant sending someone with the potential and ambition of his client to the brig.

The conversation on the case eventually fizzled out, and when the traffic came to a near standstill, Sturgis saw his window of opportunity open up. He threw out his invitation. "Feel like a round of pool and drinks at McMurphy's tonight before you fly out to Cali?"

Harm shook his head. "Thanks Sturg, but...uh, I'm going somewhere tonight".

"Oh?" He eased off the brake when the car in front of him inched forward. "Is that why you're getting the 'Vette detailed? You normally keep it so clean I doubt there was much for the shop guys to do".

He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. He wasn't sure if he wanted to have this conversation with Sturgis. He wasn't a superstitious man, but he didn't want to jinx their opportunity before it even opened. Besides, the less people who knew about their personal lives, the better off they were. "She was due for a good wax job. It's been awhile since I had one put on her".

Sturgis glanced over at him before pressing the accelerator. "You know, I would have helped you with that this weekend. All you had to do was ask".

"I, uh, needed it for tonight. But thanks, I appreciate the offer".

_'Interesting….._'

Sturgis knew his buddy's circle of friends was fairly small (of his own choosing), and for the most part, he was rather reclusive. There could only be one reason, and one person he'd go to the trouble of detailing his beloved car…..

"Soooo…" he trailed off, checking the rearview mirror before switching lanes to exit on Governor's Drive, "you got the car detailed, you have plans for tonight, and you have dinner reservations, I would assume, for tonight as well". He couldn't help suppress the knowing smirk from crossing his face. Oh, he had Harm right where he wanted him! "I don't imagine a certain Marine would fit somewhere in this equation?"

Harm cut his eyes over at Sturgis. "Who told you I had dinner reservations?"

Sturgis had the decency to look embarrassed, and he nervously cleared his throat. "I, uh, accidentally overheard you on the phone the other day". He hurried to reassure him. "But don't worry, I was the only one walking by your office at that time".

A sarcastic snort escaped Harm. "Gee, thanks. That's really comforting".

Sturgis ignored his comment. "Now, as I stated earlier, I'm quite sure these plans were made with a certain Marine in mind, hmm?"

"Naaaah…" he drawled, "I don't think my romantic gestures would quite measure up to the Gunny's standards". He flashed a mischievous smile at Sturgis. "Those Marines are wrapped pretty tight".

"Ha ha...very funny Rabb". He pulled the SUV into the parking lot of the auto-detail shop and put it in park. A moment of reflective silence settled between them.

"You finally took my advice, huh?"

Harm's voice took on a nervous edge, and he traced the emblem of the insignia on his cover. "Yeah, I...asked her out to dinner. Nothing too serious; I don't want to rush or overwhelm her. She's got enough on her plate right now. I don't want to mess up. She's too important".

Sturgis reviewed this information briefly before agreeing. "I can certainly understand that". He looked at him. "Seriously though, Harm, I'm glad you are taking that step. Took you long enough!"

He gave a quiet laugh. "Tell me about it". He stepped out of the vehicle, pausing to hold the door open. "Keep this to yourself, please. And thanks…..for everything," he gestured at the passenger seat he'd just vacated, "not just the ride".

Moving the gear shift to drive, he smiled. "It's your story to tell, man. But I do expect a full report when you get back"

Harm grinned, but just before he shut the door, he snapped off a mock salute. "Aye aye, Commander".

As Sturgis pulled away, he couldn't help the big grin that enveloped his face. Finally, they were taking that step! Finally, they were beginning to see what everyone else saw so clearly.

Finally….it looked like their time had come.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER FOURTEEN::


	16. Chapter 15

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Fifteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1745

Mac's Apartment Complex

Georgetown, VA

"Alright, Uncle Matt. Give me the once-over. Make sure I look okay." She twirled around in place, checking herself in the mirror across the room.

"You get my seal of approval" he patted the space beside him on the bed, indicating her to sit. She obliged, careful not to wrinkle her dress. "You are one beautiful lady. Harm is lucky to have you".

Compliments were always hard for her to take, especially after so many years of being called everything but a child of God by her alcoholic father. She glanced away, a fierce tinge of red crossing her face. "Thanks, Uncle Matt".

He tipped her chin towards him in soft admonishment. "Look a person in the eyes when you're given a compliment, Sarah. You've got to work on your self-esteem. Otherwise, the world will think you're weak. It will eat you alive".

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist where he held her chin captive. "I know, Uncle Matt. It's just…hard…you know? It's hard to forget all the things Joe said to me….called me….all those years".

A pained expression crossed his face at her admission. The damage Joe Mackenzie had inflicted upon his niece was deep, and this knowledge made Matthew's insides boil with anger. He wanted nothing more than to dig the deceased man up just so he could beat him to a pulp. "I do, Sarah. But it's important that you know your self-worth and embrace it. Don't ever let anyone put a price tag on you".

A knock interrupted their moment, causing Mac to glance at it with anxious hesitation. Her pulse lept, lighting all of her nerves on fire.

Matthew nudged her gently in the ribs. "Everything you could ever want in life is waiting for you on the other side of that door". He lovingly shooed her off the bed. "Now, remember what I said".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(SAME TIME, SAME LOCATION)

The freshly washed and detailed vintage Corvette sat quietly in the parking space, with one very nervous naval aviator-turned-JAG lawyer anxiously rubbing the steering wheel in a fruitless effort to settle his nerves. He double checked the arrangements hastily written down on a piece of scrap paper: '1830. Ask for Stefan'. Earlier in the week, he'd called up a friend to request help in securing a spot at the quaint restaurant on the banks of the river. Without reservations, it was almost guaranteed to be packed. Thankfully, his friend had been more than willing to help, and had set up a nice table in the far back of the restaurant, away from the prying eyes and noise of other patrons.

Harm pocketed the car keys, taking a measured step in the direction of the complex door, but doubled back upon realizing he'd left her wrist corsage on the passenger seat. A dainty cluster of red carnations, yellow roses, with a tiny sprig of baby's breath, the beautiful ensemble was tied together by silver ribbon. After seeing how much she enjoyed the bouquet he'd given her at Matthew's birthday party, he'd decided to order her a special corsage for their first date. He cursed his nerves for causing him to nearly forget it.

With the wristlet now in hand, he made his way into the building, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. He just didn't think his nerves would allow him to be still, plus it gave him the opportunity to rid himself of the nervous energy that settled in every muscle of his body. In the blink of an eye, it seemed, he found himself standing in front of her door. The three inch slab of wood suddenly transformed into an impenetrable force. He swallowed thickly, mustering up the courage to deliver three sharp raps to the lacquered surface.

XXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few seconds rolled by before Harm heard the turn of a lock, then the door opened, revealing his beautiful Marine.

Her face brightened at the sight of him. "Hey flyboy! Come on in. I just need to put my wrap on and make sure he's settled. Then I'll be ready".

Harm shook his head in absent understanding, unable to speak as his gaze swept the length of her. She wore a lacey dark blue, sleeveless dress that seemed to fit her like a glove, accentuating her delicate curves while still leaving something to the imagination. The delicate material fell just above her knees, and a pair of dainty black heels hugged her feet. The dress was beautiful. Her hair was beautiful. She was beautiful. His mouth suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara desert.

_'Oh Sarah….you are so beautiful….'_

His mind wandered into a filmy haze, his body frozen in place while his eyes roamed over. Mac had always been a beautiful woman, no doubt, but with her standing there in a dress that fit like a second skin, it threatened to send his already erratic pulse into overdrive. He fought to reclaim control over his breathing.

She quirked an eyebrow in signature fashion, an impish smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You, uh…holding the door hostage?"

"Huh?" The faint lines on his forehead scrunched together in confusion. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. What was it she had just said?

"The door, Harm". She pointed with one hand, her other hand clutching the woolen material of her wrap. "It's wide open. You've been standing out there for twenty-five seconds. You ok?"

Her words finally penetrated through the fog that esconsced him.

"Oh! Uh...yeah. Sorry". He stepped across the threshold, flashing an apologetic smile. Noticing her struggle to fasten the closure of her shoulder wrap, he placed a hand on her arm. "Here, let me help you with that".

From across the room, Matthew sighed with contentment, pleased with how the two of them seemed to be working their way towards each other. If only he could live long enough to see them get married. At least he could pass with peace, taking comfort in knowing that she would be ok.

"I only ask you have her home at a decent hour, Harm. But most importantly, enjoy the evening and behave yourselves".

Mac crossed the room and, with a smile, leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I can't make any promises, especially with him," she jerked her thumb playfully in Harm's direction, "in the mix. But I'll do my best. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No. And don't you be calling every half hour to check on me, either". He adjusted the pillow underneath his head before grabbing the remote from the nightstand. "Now, if you don't mind, my crime show is about to come on. I don't wanna miss it. You kids have a good time!"

"Alright then," she fussed over him, smoothing the bed covers, "if you need-"

"Yes, yes, I'll be sure to call you." He cut her off, shooing her hands away. "But I won't. So get outta here!" He jerked his head over her shoulder. "Besides, I believe your date has something for you".

Puzzled, Mac turned to face Harm, her eyes falling to the delicate corsage in his hand.

"I figured since you liked the flowers I got you last week, maybe you'd like this, too?". He removed the small bundle of flowers from the box, then motioned for her left wrist so he could carefully slide it on. His touch sent a delicious wave of goosebumps down her arm, and she felt her heart tremble in her chest. "It's red carnations and yellow spray roses". He nestled her wrist in the palm of his left hand while he pointed out each flowers' significance. "Red carnations symbolize admiration. I admire your strength, your heart, and the kindness you show others." He moved to the yellow roses. "The yellow rose symbolizes friendship and joy. Having you in my life brings me so much happiness, and I'm so grateful for you. Every single day". He squeezed her hand, hoping his words and his eyes conveyed what he felt in his heart. "And the ribbon represents our partnership that ties us together".

Her eyes were suspiciously shiny as she took in his every word. She fingered the petals with admiration and they shared a tender look. "Oh Harm, it's beautiful….thank you". She kissed his cheek softly, then turned to face her uncle.

"You two need to be getting on the road or else you'll miss your reservations".

Satisfied that Matthew appeared settled for the evening, she took Harm's proffered arm, and the two quickly were on their way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1830

Satendrah's

Arlington, VA

The wind nipped at her bare legs the moment they walked out the apartment complex doors. Her eyes eagerly sought out his SUV, but it was nowhere to be found. She turned to voice the question of its whereabouts, but stopped short when she saw it.

Gleaming brightly from its fresh wax job, his vintage Corvette sat proudly waiting for its driver and date.

_'What did I tell you, Mackenzie?_'

Ever the gentleman, he opened the car door, ensuring she was buckled in safely. The residual heat from when he'd parked it just minutes prior was not quite enough to prevent the chill already creeping into the interior. She clasped her hands together, blowing on them in an attempt to warm them. Another blast of icy air blew in when he assumed his position at the steering wheel. He cranked the engine, then quickly turned the heat on full-blast.

"So," she asked, placing her hands in front of the vents, "where are we going tonight?"

He fastened his own seatbelt before shifting the Corvette in gear, deftly maneuvering it out into the busy street. "A good friend of mine owns this really nice restaurant on the riverbank". He cast an anxious glance in her direction in an attempt to gauge her reaction, then shifted his eyes back to the road when the traffic began to move. "I think you'll like it; it's quaint and charming."

His thoughtfulness touched her heart.

When was the last time anyone went to the trouble to plan something special for her?

She laid a gentle hand on his arm in reassurance. "I know I will love whatever you have planned".

Despite the thick layer of his clothing, he felt her touch, and it warmed him intently. He cleared his throat, changing the topic of conversation. "I heard about your win in court today. If you keep this up, you may just find yourself sitting on the other side of the bench'". He checked the side mirrors before switching lanes for the downtown exit.

Mac shook her head in disagreement. "I wouldn't go that far, but just the same, thank you".

He slowed the car in response to a yellow-to-red traffic light, taking the opportunity to face her. "Don't sell yourself short, Mac. You're a brilliant lawyer. Besides, someone has to take over once Admiral Morris retires, which is not too long from now. Choosing you would be a no-brainer".

Completely caught off-guard, she could only stare at him, her brain struggling to process his words.

Since when had he been paying attention to her track record in the courtroom?

"I'm not so sure others feel the same, Harm. My service history isn't exactly what would be considered squeaky clean. I've messed up. Alot..." she hesitated, focusing her attention to the passing scenery.

_'Harm's right. You know the law better than anyone in that office, you've gone up against the brass more than once and won. Admiral Morris did mention last spring that he would be looking to map out candidates by the end of the year….'_

_'You've messed up too much, Mackenzie. You've got too many black stains on your record,' her inner voice lectured. 'There's no way in hell Admiral Chegwidden, let alone Admiral Morris, would think you're qualified, or even deserving, of such a high-esteemed position'._

_'Remember what Uncle Matt told you….'_

Harm's voice broke through her thoughts. "I'd choose you".

The words fell softly into the expanse between them, but he might as well have dropped a rock on her feet with the impact they had. He risked a glance in her direction, then returned his attention to the traffic that moved disjointedly in front of them.

"Thank you, Harm. That...really means alot".

He grasped her hand within his, squeezing it gently. They fell into companionable silence as the 'Vette travelled the road running parallel to the shore, both hearts hammering madly in anticipation of what the night would bring.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1900

Satyendrah's

Falls Church, VA

The restaurant was tucked off the shoreline, overlooking the bay with its rows of sailboats and watercraft dotting the harbor. A path of dangling Edison-style lightbulbs illuminated the boardwalk leading down to the docks, and the boats quietly bobbed up and down in the undulating water. The sun had begun its descent over the horizon, its fading light dancing off the water's surface. A few residents were milling about, busily tying off their watercraft, unloading fishing nets, and the like.

Upon their entrance, they were greeted by a sharply dressed maitre D' who whisked them away to a secluded area in the back. Watching the sunset from her vantage point would be beautiful, undoubtedly, and she took in the ambiance of their surroundings with a sense of awed reverence. The maître D' came back with menus, laying one in front of Mac first, then Harm.

"Would you be interested in hearing our two entrée specials tonight?

Both nodded in agreement, their mouths already watering.

"Tonight, our first special is a Tilapia dish, fresh from the bay. Our fish is marinated in a homemade zesty lemon sauce, then baked in a coating of pine nuts. It is served on a bed of locally grown arugula with a side of quinoa". He paused momentarily, allowing them to absorb this information before proceeding. "Our second special is a Montana bison burger topped with Feta-Yogurt Sauce, Tomato, and a sprig of mint. It is served on a brioche bun with a side of grilled pineapple drizzled in a cinnamon honey sauce".

The maître D' glanced between the two as he placed linen wrapped cutlery on the table. "I'll give you some time to look over the menu, then". He retreated to the kitchen, leaving them to ponder their choices.

She smirked. "I already know what you'll be ordering, Mr. Practically-A-Vegetarian".

Harm quirked an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, is that so?" He flipped the menu over for good measure, pretending to evaluate his options. The salads available certainly looked appetizing, but the Tilapia dish had undoubtedly piqued his taste buds.

"You can stop pretending. I know good and darn well you're a fish lover, so unless there's some ginormous salad on that menu, just say I'm right". Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she couldn't help but laugh when he dropped the menu in mock resignation.

He tipped his water glass to her before taking a sip. "Do I need to add mind-reading to your list of hidden talents I've managed to unearth?"

Squeezing a lemon into her water, she stuffed it below the surface with her straw, then wiped her hands on the linen napkin. "What list are you talking about? Are there hidden talents I possess that I am not aware of?"

He spread his right hand wide to tick them off. "Well, there's your ability to tell time without having to look at a watch, you speak four languages, you can field-strip an M-16 in 30 seconds while blindfolded," he was on the middle finger by this point, "you always seem to know when I enter the room without turning around," he paused at his thumb, "and, you have this excruciating ability to keep secrets…like where," he craned his neck to look her over, "that tattoo of yours is".

She rolled her eyes in fake exasperation. "Five years on and you just won't let that go, will you?"

"Oh believe me, five years or not, I'm going to find it".

The words and insinuation behind them slipped out before he could check them.

_'Oh, shit'_

A blush stole across her face, but her eyes never left his, even as he glanced away, embarrassed of what he'd said, but also fearful of what he would see in her eyes. Disgust? Disappointment?

She swallowed thickly, and her voice held a soft tremor when she finally cleared it enough to speak. "I look forward to that day, sailor".

Harm could have sworn his heart dropped straight to his toes at her comment and the look in her eyes. It both terrified him as much as it excited it…..because the look in her eyes most certainly wasn't disappointment or disgust.

He opened his mouth to tell her he felt the same...or at least something along those lines, when the maître D' chose to return at that moment, severing the intimate moment. "Ma'am, Sir, are we ready to order?"

Momentarily caught off guard, Harm scanned the menu absentmindedly.

What was it he had planned to order?

"Uh, yeah. I think so. Mac? Ladies first".

Mac nodded quickly, tearing her eyes away from her handsome partner. The way he was looking at her threatened to drive the very breath from her body. She needed something to occupy her attention, quickly!

"I'd like to order the Bison Burger, please". The request flowed off her tongue as though she hadn't just swallowed it a moment prior. She stacked the menu on top of Harm's, looking at him with amused expectation. "Would you like for me to order for you?"

He rolled his eyes in her reference to their previous conversation while he handed the menus back to the maître D. "I'll have the salmon special," he shot Mac a pointed look, who smirked with amusement, "please".

The maître D' recorded their choices in his notebook, then tucked the menus underneath his arm. "I'll put those orders in for you, and I'll return momentarily with a special appetizer of grilled zucchini caprese," he nodded towards the kitchen, "compliments of the owner".

Mac's stomach chose at that moment to protest its lack of contents, causing Harm to break out in laughter. "That would be wonderful, thank you. We don't want her to waste away into the ocean".

The maître D' nodded and left the two of them alone once again.

She lightly kicked Harm under the table.

"Ow!" he exclaimed in mock protest, making a great deal of rubbing his shin. "What was that for?"

"For making fun of me and my appetite, you big lug".

A grin crossed his face. "Well, if the shoe fits, wear it. Of course," he peered underneath the table at her feet, "in your case, that would be combat boots".

Her laughter skipped across the table between them, and for the first time in weeks, their hearts felt as light as a feather.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(MUCH, MUCH LATER)

Shortly after the entree dishes were taken away, the chocolate mousse dessert exhaustively relished, and the sprig of mint cleansed their palettes, Harm had grown increasingly hungry for more.

Just not food.

Over the course of the evening, he'd found himself unable to keep from staring at her, every movement she made capturing his attention, each word she spoke filtering in his ears like a soothing melody. He could feel the air shifting between them as the night wore on, and he swore to himself it would not end without her knowing how he felt. It may not come out the way he'd imagined, but nevertheless, his feelings would be known. The wall of suffocation pressed against him.

"You really look nice tonight," he stammered, inwardly cursing his lack of eloquence. "I mean, not that you don't always look nice. Because you do. But tonight…..", his voice lost its confidence, and he left the sentence floating in the air. Why was it that every time he went to say what was in his heart, the words froze in his brain, or they tumbled out haphazardly, falling over themselves such that they threatened to misconstrue the intended message? He couldn't ever recall being this nervous on a date.

_'Except none of them were with Mac'._

He shook his head in tired frustration. He was tired. Tired of metaphors, of double talk, of misconstrued feelings. Tired of letting fear control his fate. What was it Sturgis had said to him on the Patrick Henry? That she was worth the risk?

A look of determination crossed his face and he wrestled his fear back into its cage. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

_'To hell with it….'_

"You really are a beautiful woman, Sarah"

Mac flushed red with embarrassment at his sentiments. She averted her eyes in a sense of unworthiness, the forlorn beast of inadequacy rearing its ugly head once more.

But Harm wouldn't have any of it. He reached across the short expanse between them, lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. "I mean it. Every word".

This time, she held his gaze, her eyes sparkling in the low candle light. "Thank you, Harm. You look very handsome, too. I've always loved you in green".

Her words warmed him to the bottom of his soul, and, it went without saying, his ego. He'd have to remember to wear green more often. Had she told him once before, and he hadn't been listening? He was certainly listening now.

A comfortable silence fell once again, both searching each other's eyes for words unspoken.

And it was then that Harm recognized the song playing over the restaurant's speakers. He'd heard it a thousand times before, even had it on a playlist of favorites, but never really paid attention to the lyrics, nor how they applied to them.

_'It sure seems to be a pattern of yours, Rabb. You hear, but you don't listen'. _

His hands trembled where they gripped his kneecaps, and he tugged at his collar as he worked up the courage to say what was on his mind. Why was it so hard for him to voice his feelings? It's not like they hadn't shared a dance before….

_'But this time is different'._

He really couldn't argue there.

A shy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, as though she knew what he wanted to ask.

Both spoke at the same time.

"Would you like to dan-?"

"I'd love to-"

They both laughed, faces flushing at the ridiculous awkwardness. And then it was gone, replaced by eager anticipation. He gently took her hand in his, and she followed his lead to a small area just beyond their table. In the wake of the sun's absence, the harbor lights now shimmered off the water below. He pulled her close, just as he'd done at Matthew's birthday party, and he fought the urge to crush her against his chest. He didn't want to overwhelm her, or worse, scare her off, but it felt so damn good to have her back in his arms again. And with each moment that passed, he found himself drowning further into every bit of her that made him love her so much. He tightened his hold around her waist, pressing his face against her silky hair.

'Is this my hopeful conversation?

Are you the unforgetful smile?

Is there a source of inspiration

To make this easy for awhile?'

The conversation they'd shared at Matthew's birthday party gave her hope: hope that there was still a chance, still time. And his smile! She'd always claimed she was immune to it, but the truth was, she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Harmon Rabb, Jr was her source of inspiration, to keep going when the waves of life threatened to drown her. Loving him was so easy. He made it easy for her to love, to open her heart again. He made it easy for a while, to forget about her uncle's impending departure, to forget about all the grief that would come in the wake of his passing.

'You say you found your destination

A place to mend your broken smile

Are you still waiting for salvation

To make this easy for awhile?

To get easy for awhile'

Sarah Mackenzie was his destination, where his heart called home, where he felt that all was right in a world full of so many wrongs. She was the place to mend his broken smile when the forces of life ripped it apart. She was his salvation in so many ways. Sarah made his life, and loving her, incredibly easy.

"You know, I've been thinking back to the time we first met, when the Admiral introduced us. Do you remember that?"

She gave a quiet laugh against his shoulder. "Of course I do. You looked at me like I grew three heads". A regretful sigh escaped her before she could catch it. "I remember you looked disappointed, as though you were expecting your new partner to be someone else".

The memory of their first meeting was forever burned into her memory. The look on his face was one she'd had difficulty deciphering. She often wondered if it was disappointment, or disgust that he was feeling during those first pivotal moments.

"Well," he admitted, "I was a little surprised that the Admiral partnered me with a woman". The instant the words left his mouth, he cringed. "I'm sorry Mac, that came out wrong".

She shook her head with assurance. She knew what he meant. "No worries".

He continued. "The Admiral was cagey with the details, so I didn't know what to expect. To be honest, I was dreading a new partner. All my past experiences with Marines have been, well," he paused, considering his next words carefully, "let's just say they've been far from enjoyable".

An element of surprise crossed her face. She pulled back to look at him. "Really? You never told me".

"I know. I didn't want to start us out on the wrong foot, but it seems like I did anyways"

She knitted her brow in confusion. "I don't follow".

A rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I almost didn't shake your hand".

"Ohhhh. That." She fell silent, contemplating that moment.

'How many times a day do you feel that heavy weight?

How many times a night do you close your eyes?

How many cigarettes does it take you just to get

Easy for awhile'

Mac felt the weight of their first meeting on her heart, wondering how many times he closed his eyes and saw Diane when he should have been seeing her. Was Diane an addiction? Like a cigarette to a smoker? Did she make it easy for him to forget Diane was gone?

(Take your time)

How many times a day do you feel that heavy weight?

(It's a long forgotten road)

How many times a night do you close your eyes?

(Take your time)

How many cigarettes does it take you just to get

(It's a long forgotten road)

Easy for awhile'

She wondered, had he not been involved with Diane, would their relationship be different? She wondered if he'd forgotten about the road they could have taken that night on the docks of Norfolk. It was one of the many turning points that presented itself in their relationship, and yet, she went in one direction, he, always another. She wondered if he had any idea as to the number of times she closed her eyes, replaying that bittersweet kiss. In that moment, it was easy to forget that she was not being kissed as Sarah Mackenzie, but as Diane Shonke.

"Mac, I feel like I need to clear the air. I want you to know, I've never once held your resemblance to Diane against you".

She gave a slight shake of her head, her hair flitting with the movement. There was no need for an apology. She understood, more than he gave credit. She moved her hand upwards to rest on his shoulder. "I know. And I know it couldn't have been easy seeing me every day and having to remind yourself that I wasn't her". A quiet moment passed while she gathered the courage to say what was on her mind.

_'Time to be honest. To hell with it'._

"Didn't you ever wonder why I was so aloof? Why I kept my distance? Why I was so hard on you in the beginning?"

He paused momentarily, giving thought to her question. "Yeah, come to think of it, I did. But, I just assumed that was your personality. They teach us not to get close to others in the military, regardless of the branch of service. I thought you were doing just that".

She shook her head. "No, not at all"

If her response surprised him any, he didn't show it. Instead, he searched her eyes for whatever truths she seemed to want to reveal. He felt, whatever she was about to say, was going to take a monumental level of confidence.

"That's not me, Harm." Her voice was soft, and she focused on a spot just over his shoulder. "That's the shield I put up, to keep people away. To keep from getting hurt, or, in your case, to keep from hurting you".

He arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Mac, forgive me for being obtuse, but you've lost me".

'How many times a day do you feel that heavy weight?

How many times a night do you close your eyes?

How many cigarettes does it take you just to get

Easy for awhile'

She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to let the weight of her secret fall away, to give up the comfort zone that made it...easy for awhile. "When you looked at me that first moment, I saw in your eyes what I've seen so many times before. I was reminding you of something awful, like I was this mistake, or some horrible joke that was being played on you. And especially after I found out about Diane….it just gutted me to know I was a constant reminder. I guess," she shook her head, "I reasoned if I found ways to make you dislike me, you wouldn't feel so much resentment. And maybe you'd ask the Admiral to have me reassigned".

Her revelations crashed over him like a bucket of ice water, leaving him utterly dumbfounded. How in the world could she ever think that? She had to know what she meant to him. She had to know her value. She just had to.

She continued, snapping him from his state of shock. "From the moment I was born, Harm, I've managed to mess up so many people's lives. My parents, Eddy's, Dalton's, Farrow's. And the more I worked with you, and the more I fell in-" she stopped short of the admission, "I just couldn't let you be another victim. It would tear me up to know I had ruined your life".

'(Take your time)

How many times a day do you feel that heavy weight?

(It's a long forgotten road)

How many times a night do you close your eyes?

(Take your time)

How many cigarettes does it take you just to get

(It's a long forgotten road)

Easy for awhile'

Harm's mind sagged with the weight of her words, and the dark message they carried. Had she really thought, all this time, that she was worth nothing more than the paper used to print her birth certificate? He closed his eyes in disgust, wondering just how many people had trampled all over her heart. Nevertheless, the road to change, long forgotten, opened up to him once more. It was time to blaze a new path for her, for them. It was time to set the record straight on her self-worth. Convincing her of her worth wouldn't be easy, not for awhile, but loving her was worth it the effort. She was worth it.

"Ma-Sarah," he began, letting go of her waist and grasping both hands within his. "Your parents, and your parents alone, were responsible for their lives turning out the way they did. The same goes for Eddy. He was the one who chose to drink and drive that night. Dalton was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time; never mind the fact he never respected you the way you deserved. As far as Farrow is concerned, he knew exactly what he was doing. And if I recall correctly, he openly acknowledged it and had no regrets". He took a deep breath before continuing. "And as far as I'm concerned….I want to be a part of your life. I want to be in your life. Always. Nothing could ever change what I feel for you".

There. He'd said it. Maybe not as eloquent as he had hoped, but he'd said it just the same. He'd taken a leap of faith, plunged in with his whole body. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

'Take your time

I know you need it

Take your time

I know you need it….'

He would wait for her as long as it took. She needed time, he knew, and he would give it to her.

She spent a long moment studying his words, working to establish an agreement between her mind and her heart that he was being nothing short of honest with her. But still….her demons of low self-worth refused to stay buried. She had to know.

"And what….what is it that you feel for me?" The question was nothing but a quiet whisper. She watched him carefully, trying to read the myriad of emotions that crossed his face, searching his eyes for the honesty she so desperately needed.

He stilled their dance, taking her hand to place over his heart, where it skipped and fluttered due to her proximity. She vaguely wondered if he could feel hers doing the same. The way they were pressed so close together, there was no way he couldn't. It was though their bodies had jumped on the same wavelength.

Harm's voice was full of emotion when he finally spoke. "I feel more for you than I could ever express. Could ever say". He grimaced, frustrated with his inability to say what was in his heart. He touched his forehead to hers. "I'm just not good with words. I'm trying so hard, Sarah, so hard". He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry".

Mac moved her free hand from his shoulder to his cheek, stroking it with butterfly caresses. "It's okay, Harm, I know". She affectionately nudged the underside of his chin with her nose, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave. "I know what you're trying to say".

Swallowing hard, he leaned into her hand, keeping her other trapped against his chest. "Do you, Sarah?" His voice trembled slightly, its husky undertone sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes".

It was just a singular word, but the message it carried held more volumes than all of the libraries in the world. Harm closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her touch, her presence, her scent. Her. When he had finally centered himself enough to open them, he found himself swept away by the emotions churning in her doe eyes, and before he realized what he was doing, he lowered his head to gently capture her lips.

Her heart skittered with the unexpected feeling of his lips upon hers, but with absence of another thought, she responded as though kissing him were second nature. She ran her free hand through his hair, settling it at the base of his neck.

He paused for a moment, giving her a chance to grow accustomed to the feel of his lips against hers. He moved his hand up to cradle her head as he dared to deepen the kiss, anchoring her in place. Mac shyly granted him access, and he felt, more than heard, the hitch in her breathing when he began to explore her mouth. He savored the taste and feel of her, committing each tortuously sweet moment to memory. It felt incredibly good to hold her in his arms the way he'd always wanted to. Fighting the fear of her backing away lest he loosen his grip on her, he pulled her even closer so that there was not so much as an inch of space between them. And he continued to pour everything he had into kissing her.

Mac's heart skipped erratically when she felt his tongue press against the seam of her lips, and she immediately welcomed his advances, allowing him to take the lead. For the first time in her life, she did not feel intimidated, nor pressured, for a man to take control. For the first time in her life, she was pleasantly drowning in everything this man had to offer. She gladly let him take everything and anything he wanted, eager to be a prisoner of his love.

All too soon, the irritating need for oxygen forced them to break their kiss, and he rested his forehead against hers as they both struggled to regain control over their breathing. He captured her hand once again, placing it back over his racing heart.

"It's yours, you know. Always has been".

'(Take your time)

How many times a day do you feel that heavy weight?

(Take your time)

How many times a night do you close your eyes?

(Take your time)

How many cigarettes does it take you just to get

Easy for awhile'

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She mickmicked his gesture, his cold hand cool against the heated skin of her chest. Her voice trembled with joyous emotion.

"Likewise."

With that one word uttered, and for the first time since she'd met Harmon Rabb, Jr in the White House Rose Garden so many years ago, the heavy weight of the unknown slipped off her shoulders, falling to the wayside. She closed her eyes once more as the tears slipped down her cheeks. It was so easy….to love him. To be loved by him.

Oh yes, they took their time. Love made it easy…. for awhile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2200

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Harm held Mac's purse for her while she fished the apartment key out, his other hand placed at the small of her back in a protective, yet intimate gesture. Despite their quiet entrance, Matthew stirred in bed, his voice thick with sleep.

"Thank you for bringing her home safely. Did you have a good time?"

He nodded, helping Mac shrug out of her wrap. "We did, and the pleasure was mine, Matthew". He lingered at the door while she returned her wrap to the closet, then turned her attention back to him.

"Tonight was one of the best nights I've had in a long time, Harm. Thank you for going to so much trouble to get everything set up".

"It was no trouble at all, Mac. It was worth every minute". He ran a hand through the silky locks of her hair before drifting to her shoulder. "I'll see you Wednesday, okay? But you call me if you need anything. Anything at all. It doesn't matter".

Mac smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "I won't, but I appreciate the offer. Enjoy the weekend with your mom and Frank. Tell them I said hi".

"I sure will. They'll be tickled to hear from you, especially Mom". He stalled at the threshold; he really did not want to leave. In fact, his heart ached at the very realization of being 3,000 miles, two time zones, and seven states away from her in just a matter of hours. But he'd already promised his help, and he was a man of his word. Besides….Frank had already paid for his tickets despite Harm's stout objections.

Sensing his hesitation and feeling the need to break the anxiousness, she stepped closer to lay a gentle hand against the side of his face. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Go!" She gave him a playful shove towards the door. "You still have to pack, mister".

He laughed as he stepped out into the empty hallway, lingering just beyond the threshold. "Mac, it's not like I'm going away for two weeks. I don't need to pack the whole apartment".

"I know," she countered, "but it's approaching 2300, and you've got an early flight. You won't have much time to pack or sleep if you keep hanging around here".

"What, are you trying to get rid of me, ninjagirl? Is my company that bad?" He winked to let her know he was teasing.

"I just know how long it takes the Navy to get ready, flyboy. Which is why they usually send the Marines in first".

"You wound me". He placed a hand over his heart in a mock display of pain.

"Get outta here, before I kick you out!" she grinned, standing on tip-toe to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. She really did not want him to leave, but she knew he needed a break from work as well as helping with Matthew's care. Not to mention, based on what he'd shared about Frank's accident, they needed his help right now more than she did.

"I will, I promise". He cupped her cheek, and, mindful of her uncle's presence just feet away, he pressed a tender kiss against her lips. "Goodnight, ninjagirl," he said softly, then started down the hallway towards the elevator.

"Harm!"

Upon hearing her voice, he turned to face her, an inquisitive look crowding his handsome features. "Yeah?"

The words caught in her throat, unable to force their way out despite her mind screaming at her to say them. Her confidence waffling, she opted for the second most important phrase in her vocabulary, one reserved for those she cared deeply for. "Please, be careful".

A solemn look passed over his face at her request. He nodded firmly. "Always. You have my word". He gave her a soft smile, then stepped into the elevator, the doors closing them off from each other.

Mac stood there for a long moment, fighting back an inexplicable wave of tears. Her lips still tingled from where they'd made brief contact with his. Watching him walk away made the insecure part of her feel like he was leaving for good.

_'Mac, he's only going to be gone for a few days! Get yourself together!'_

But to her, a few days seemed like an eternity.

The ache was almost unbearable, and she wondered if he felt the same way. After their kiss at the restaurant, and the way he seemed to see right through to her soul, there was no way he couldn't. She shut the door with profound resignation, struggling to surreptitiously collect her composure lest Matthew see her upset. But he was all-too wise, and he knew her far better than she realized.

"He'll be back soon, Sarah. And it will be as though you were never apart." Matthew called out softly.

Fighting the tears back, Mac settled herself, albeit restlessly, on the edge of his bed. She picked at a thread in the hem of her dress, feeling her uncle's careful scrutiny upon her. She wasn't quite sure what to do with, or how to process her feelings; all that she did know was that she felt more for him than she could ever fully express. Not to mention their kiss….it certainly left no doubts in her mind as to how much he wanted her, desired her, and more than just in a sexual nature.

Seeing her brow furrowed in concentration as she deliberated on what to say, Matthew chose to remain quiet. It was quite obvious as to her feelings, and how much his leaving was affecting her.

She risked a glance in his direction, her eyes full of unshed tears. The words tumbled out in a whisper, as though she were afraid to voice them too loudly, as if Harm might hear them and run away. "I love him, you know".

A relationship with him couldn't help but raise questions, those world-weary demons whispering self-doubt, self-worth...encouraging her to stay on the sidelines. She replayed the evening's events in her head, wondering why it took them so long to take the next step. As many questions that were answered that night, it seemed they were replaced with more. Could it be so easy? Could it be they were finally on the same sheet of music? Would she be enough for him? She was unsure. They had been thru so much, come so far, fought so many battles both together and apart, that it didn't seem possible for them to have anything left.

"Have you told him?"

His question snapped her out of her reverie, and it took her a moment to recover from the surprise. She absentmindedly twirled her Marine Corps ring around her finger. "I'm….not really sure how to".

A low chuckle escaped him, despite the despondent look on her face. "Sarah, last time I checked, it's called, 'How to Say I Love You'".

"Easy for you to say," she said with a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head at her uncle's impressive sense of ease. They were just three words, but oh the weight they carried! When one really stopped to think of all the implications those "three little words" brought, well, they didn't seem so little anymore. And therein lay the problem.

'One day at a time, Mackenzie. One step at a time'.

"Soooo…" Matthew changed gears, bringing a lighter tone to the conversation, "you haven't said how the date was".

A grin crossed her face at the memory of the evening, and that kiss. Oh that kiss! "It was….nice".

"What did you have? Anything French?"

Mac shook her head. "No, he took me to a nice steak and seafood place. I had one of their burger specials".

"What about French onion soup?"

"No. Just the burger. And this fantastic chocolate mousse, it was to die for!" she gushed. A devoted lover of anything chocolate, the dessert was nothing less than scrumptious, and she'd made Harm promise to take her back there in the near future.

He smirked. "You sure you didn't have a French dish?"

Again, she shook her head. She was really confused. What was he talking about?

"French souffle? French fries?"

Puzzled as to where he was going with this, she peered at him curiously. "No…..nothing French..."

"French kiss?" he finally volunteered, unable to contain the boisterous laugh that escaped him upon the look of shock that captured her face.

"Uncle Matt! Oh my word!" she exclaimed, her face turning at least three different shades of red at his comment….and the memory of Harm's lips on hers. A devious smirk tugged at her mouth when she'd finally managed to recover. "Don't you know any Marine worth their insignia never tells a secret?"

"Sarah, honey…it's so obvious you might as well have it written across your face," he grinned. "It's about damn time you two get on the same sheet of music".

A solemn look settled back on her face, and she looked at him. "You….you really think...you really think we have a chance, Uncle Matt?"

The conviction was strong in his voice. "Without a doubt, I do".

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. "I sure do love you, Uncle Matt. With my whole heart".

He squeezed her as tightly as he could and dropped a quick kiss on her hairline. "And I love you too, Sarah. Always".

The two stayed that way for a long moment, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.

It was going to be a long weekend.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With every step he took towards the building's exit, the weight of leaving her behind seemed to grow exponentially. He felt his obligations were pulling him in three different directions, each one vying for his solitary attention: his job, Frank and Trish, Mac. It just never seemed to get any easier. He paused as he opened the door to his vette, fixing his eyes on the curtain-drawn windows of her apartment. For the first time since the mishap case aboard the Patrick Henry, he'd never felt so far away from her than he did in that very moment. It was like a knife to his heart, cutting him completely open.

"Dammit all!"

He cursed Frank's accident, Matthew's illness, the military regulations, their job schedules. He cursed all the time he'd wasted. He cursed life in general. It seemed the harder he worked to reach her, the more life worked to stand in their way. So many obstacles they'd overcome. So many times they'd cheated death. So many excuses used.

With a sigh of resignation, he leaned his head against the back of the seat, feeling the burning sensation of tears building in the back of his eyes. He was not normally a praying man, nor a man of faith, but in that moment, he felt he had no option left or cards to play. He sent a silent plea to the Universe, or whatever force he felt seemed to take a sick form of pleasure in keeping them apart.

_'You've taken so much away from both of us, please, just please don't take our chance away. It's all we've got left'._

He ran a frustrated hand over his forehead, glanced up once more at the window that had now gone dark, and cranked the engine.

It was going to be a long weekend.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER FIFTEEN::


	17. Chapter 16

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Sixteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1030 (Pacific Time)

San Diego International Airport

La Jolla, CA

Trish Barnett anxiously peered over the throng of travelers meandering their way through the crowded airport, hoping to catch a glimpse of her son. It only took a few seconds to spy his tall frame navigating the channels of people. His height made him easy to spot, and Trish, being of relative short-stature, certainly welcomed the advantages her son's tall frame allowed. He definitely got it from his father.

Harm scanned the jostling crowd just beyond the arrivals gate sign, and upon seeing Trish and Frank, he immediately changed course to meet up with them. No sooner had he let go of his suitcase handle when his mother enveloped him in a bearhug, having to stand on her toes to reach him.

"Hey sweetheart! How was your flight?"

He squeezed her gently while she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. "It was okay. Sorry about the delay. They had issues with the plane's air filtration system. We couldn't board until it was repaired".

"Don't you worry, dear. We were running a little bit behind. The traffic seems to get more hectic the closer we get to the holidays". She evaluated him with a nod of motherly approval. "Looks like you're doing well. And we really appreciate the help getting everything moved in".

"Not a problem, I'm just glad the Admiral let me have the time off". Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he reached out to shake his stepfather's hand. "It's good to see you, Frank. Sorry about your accident".

Frank offered to take his bag, but the two promptly admonished him, although Trish was the first to voice her objections. "No, Frank, you're not supposed to use that shoulder for at least three more weeks."

"Yes, dear". Frank rolled his eyes. He was a man who greatly valued his independence, which, of course, directly conflicted with Trish's tendency to hover. Since his injury, she'd stayed over him like a summer thunderstorm, and it was becoming rather suffocating. He was thankful for Harm's presence in more ways than one: mostly because they needed his muscle power, but partly because it would give her someone else to mother-hen.

"No need to roll your eyes, Frank. You know I'm right".

"Yes, dear".

Trish continued to fuss as she led the trio through the busy airport. "I'm telling you, Harm, it's been awful getting him follow the doctor's orders. Won't listen to a word I have to say. I swear, that man is as stubborn as a mule. If I tell him not to do something, it's like I've thrown down the challenge gauntlet". She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction while they rode the escalator down to the bottom floor. "I don't know why I say a word, I might as well be talking to a bowl of wet noodles".

Frank nudged Harm in the ribs, nodding at Trish's backside. "You see what I've had to put up with? It's enough to worry the horns off a billy goat," he whispered. "I can't even take a leak without her hovering outside the door".

Harm coughed to cover his laugh. While his mother undoubtedly meant well, she could be a bit overbearing at times, especially when she had the opportunity to practice her nursing skills. The weeks he'd spent recovering at the farm following his ramp strike had given him enough evidence that he did not doubt Frank's recount.

"No need to whisper, Frank. My hearing is just fine, thank you very much".

He shook his head. "Of course, dear".

They exited the airport and headed for the SUV, Trish having to almost run to keep up with Harm's long strides. She pulled out the keyfob to unlock the rear gate so Harm could stow his bags.

"We really are glad to see you, even though it's just to put you to work". Frank grinned as the trio buckled in and Trish navigated the BMW out of the parking garage. "We promise we won't work you too hard".

"It's the only way I can get him out here, Frank" she glanced in the rearview mirror. "When did you come visit us last? Ten years ago?"

He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "It hasn't been that long, mom," he chided. "It's only been since the Spring".

"And where's Sarah, that beautiful girl of yours? How come you didn't bring her?" She paused at a crosswalk so pedestrian traffic to clear.

"Mac's going through some really hard stuff right now, Mom. I'd like to bring her out here one day, though. I know she'd love it, especially with all the history museums in the area".

Concern immediately covered Trish's face and she glanced quickly at Frank, then Harm. "What's wrong? She's not sick, is she?"

From the back seat, Frank listened intently. He'd not had the opportunity to meet Mac yet, but based on the tidbits of information Harm and Trish had shared over the years, it was quite obvious she was very special to his step-son.

"Oh no!" He was quick to correct her. "She's okay. Well, I mean, at least physically she's ok. It's…it's her uncle."

"The one that's at Leavenworth?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Colonel Matthew O'Hara. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer while I was investigating the mishap incident on the Patrick Henry. Mac flew out to Kansas to bring him home on hospice care".

A hand flew to her mouth at this information. "Oh Harm….that's terrible. Didn't you tell me once that he's the only family she has?".

Harm only nodded, unwilling to divulge much of Mac's past to people she'd never met, even if it was his own family. He felt to do so would betray her trust, not to mention invade her privacy, and it was the last thing he wanted to do. "I've been doing my best to help where I can. Hospice is in there, and even though the Admiral put her on FMLA leave, she requested to work three half days a week. I think she's wearing herself thin, but….she says it helps get her out of the apartment for a little bit." He sighed as he glanced out at the passing scenery. "I just wish she'd let me do more".

Trish reached across the console, patting his knee affectionately. "I know Sarah appreciates you. And I know she's dealing with everything the only way she knows how".

He flashed a small smile, then changed the subject lest his mother ask more questions. "I wish I had longer to visit, but with Mac being out on FMLA, and Mattonni and Imes on temporary assignment at NAS, we're really short-staffed. I was surprised the Admiral let me off, especially so close to the holidays".

"We certainly understand. I have to admit, with his shoulder being messed up, it's been alot harder than I anticipated to get everything moved".

As she maneuvered the SUV onto the interstate, he took in the passing scenery with its khaki-colored beaches and leafy palm trees. Each time he came to visit, he understood more and more why they never desired to live elsewhere, despite the constant threat of earthquakes and wildfire. And while he enjoyed the beautiful weather and visiting with family, his nerves were already jumping with anticipation to get home. To her. She was his home, in so many ways.

Fifteen minutes later, Trish pulled the SUV into their newly finished garage. Moving boxes were piled up against the far corner, and a U-HAUL ® trailer sat in the driveway, waiting to be unloaded.

Harm took in the plethora of boxes with a sharp whistle. He definitely had his work cut out for him. "Boy, you weren't kidding when you said you had a lot to unpack".

"Oh honey," Trish squeezed his shoulder as she sidled past him to a pile of boxes marked 'kitchenware', "that's nothing compared to what we donated to the thrift store or ended up tossing due to damage. That storm wiped us out." She gestured towards the boxes beside her. "Most of these are my kitchenware. I really need to get them unpacked. But let's get you something to eat first. I'm sure you must be hungry after that long flight. Besides, I can't get any work out of you on a empty stomach".

With a mock groan, he followed the pair into the house, hoping he would be able to get the majority of the heavy moving done before his flight back home on Tuesday.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1300 PT

Trish and Frank's rental condo

La Jolla, CA

The U-HAUL trailer was packed to the brim with the sectional leather couch, bookcases, and end tables from their living room. Not to mention the boxes of books, crystal wear, and family heirlooms. Trish handed Harm a cardboard box that contained her bubble-wrapped Humboldt figurines, and he carefully nestled the fragile box between couch cushions and moving blankets.

"That's the last of the living room decorations, thank goodness. I swear it breeds overnight. You wouldn't believe all the stuff we sold at the garage sale over the summer!"

Harm wiped his sweaty brow, carefully stepping over the crowded furniture so he could exit the hot trailer. "I can believe it. If there's one thing I've always dreaded with a new assignment, it's the moving part of it," he chuckled. With her help, he shoved the loading ramp back under the trailer bed before securing the latch on the heavy metal doors.

"Alright young man, time to take a break". She offered a bottle of water and a rag so he could wipe his face, and he took both with appreciation, running the towel over his sweaty hair. "You've been at this for five hours. Not to mention, it looks as though a storm might be joining us". She gestured towards the dark clouds looming on the horizon, and as if on cue, the wind picked up, providing a welcoming breeze against his heated skin.

Taking a swig from the water bottle, he wiped his face once more. "Tell you what, I'll drive the truck over to the house and unload what I can. You've only got this trailer for one more day".

Trish shook her head. "Not until you rest. Besides, no sense in trying to unload in the rain".

Glancing at the gathering storm clouds, he realized it was approaching rather fast. "Yeah, hopefully it will pass quickly. And I need to check on Mac. I haven't talked to her since I left".

"Sounds like a plan. Frank should have lunch ready for us. Let's go eat!" With a smile, she locked elbows with him, escorting him back to the condo.

Frank looked up from where he was preparing lunch at the small bar, relieved to see them come thru the door. "Perfect timing. I was just about to come get you two". He set a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of salad on the small kitchen table, pointing out the bay window overlooking the condo's dog park. It was almost empty, save for a few dwellers rushing their furry companions from the path of the approaching storm. "I checked the weather radar. There's a nasty cell moving up the coast". He gestured towards Harm as they each took a seat at the table. "It should pass rather quickly, but I don't want you trying to manage that trailer with these winds. No sense in that. It can wait".

Harm grabbed the salad tongs, piling a handful of the leafy green mixture onto his plate. "I'd like to have all of your heavy furniture and boxes in the new house before I have to leave".

"Frank," Trish interjected, "he's working himself to the bone out there."

"Besides, your rental on the trailer is only thru tomorrow afternoon," he pointed out, "I need to make the most of the time I have".

Frank gave him a stern look as he passed a bottle of bleu cheese dressing to him. "Don't overdo it, Harm. Trish and I appreciate your help, more than you know, but we don't want you working yourself into the ground". He nodded at Trish. "Do you really want her on your case? I mean," he gestured at his shoulder, "this has given her every excuse to damn near tie me to the couch"..

"Alright, alright, I know when I'm outnumbered," Harm laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Following a silent, but scathing look from Trish, the three ate in companionable silence, save for the rain beating against the windows, the storm having finally arrived.

When the food was consumed, and their appetites sated for the afternoon, Frank made a move to clear their dishes, but Trish stopped him. "Leave those for now. We can get the linen closet cleaned out while it storms. Besides," she handed the portable handset to Harm, "he needs to call Sarah and check on them".

Frank set the plates down, "Alright dear". He wrapped his good arm around her as they turned to exit the kitchen. Trish paused momentarily, calling over her shoulder, "Give our love to Sarah, please. Let her know we're thinking about her and look forward to her visiting soon".

Harm acknowledged her request, waiting for them to disappear down the hall before dialing a number he knew as well as his social security digits.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1630 ET

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Startled awake by the repetitive noise of a ringing phone, and a little disoriented, Mac clumsily reached for the handset but inadvertently knocked it off its base, sending it clattering to the rug covered floor.

Harm heard a soft thud, followed by a muffled curse before her fuddled voice came across the line. He couldn't help but chuckle at the unladylike profanity, especially given the very soft, feminine quality her voice held when she was sleepy.

"'ello?"

"Hey ninjagirl, you okay?"

She was quite exhausted, but his familiar timber helped rouse her a little more. She checked her internal clock; it was 1630, which meant it was only 1330 on the West Coast. Shouldn't he be in the middle of moving furniture?

"Harm?"

"Yeah, it's me. Expecting someone else, were you?" he teased, leaning against the window-frame while he watched the rain continue to come in sheets. "Did I catch a Marine off-guard?"

Mac stifled a yawn, shoving the blanket to the side. She shifted herself to the edge of the couch, casting a furtive glance at Matthew, who remained asleep. Sighing with relief, she was grateful her clumsiness had not woken him. After violently throwing up until mid-morning, he needed the rest. Scrubbing her eyes, she wrapped the blanket around herself before padding to the kitchen to make coffee. As she slid the pocket door open, a blast of frigid air immediately greeted her, making her shiver.

_'At least the beverage would be hot!'_

She set out to quickly brew a pot, eager to spend as little time in the cold room as possible.

There had been a power surge early Saturday morning, blowing out several of the heating units in the far east wing of the complex, which of course, included hers. She'd been without heat since, but despite explaining her uncle's medical situation, the repairman was swamped and could not provide a definitive timeframe of when her unit would be repaired. Fortunately, she kept a small space heater stowed in the linen closet. She had set it beside her uncle's bed so he would stay warm. In an effort to keep the heat contained to the living room, all non-essential rooms were closed off, including the kitchen.

"How's it going at your parents?" She corrected herself, "I mean, your mom and Franks?"

"We've got two rooms moved so far. I had the U-Haul loaded to take the living room furniture over there, but a storm popped up. I'm just waiting it out right now". He absentmindedly watched the gusty winds churn the ocean water just beyond the dog park. "I thought I'd check in. You doing alright?"

Mac paused, switching out the carafe the moment the golden liquid reached the brim of her cup. She was too cold to wait for the pot to fill up, so she had placed her mug under the spigot so it would fill first. A few drops fell on the hot plate, crawling across the surface before disappearing into a sizzle.

She wavered between telling him everything, or keeping the facts limited. She knew if she wasn't careful, Harm wouldn't hesitate to take the next flight out, which is what she certainly did not want. Frank and Trish were on a pressing timeline, and they needed his help. But, she also knew Harm was extremely perceptive when it came to her. Eager to escape the freezing confines of the kitchen, she forewent the usual pack of sugar and slipped quietly back into the living room. "We're making it. He um...had a rough night". She opted for a little bit of truth. "And the heating went out in the apartment. But we're fine, I promise".

The fatigue in her voice immediately had him concerned. "Mac? Did hospice not come? And what's going on with your heat? How are you staying warm?"

She chuckled quietly. "Cool your jet engines, flyboy. The nurse came out within an hour of me calling. It's just part of the situation. They told me to expect this as the disease progressed". Mac settled herself back on the couch, tucking her lithe frame underneath the thick blanket. She took a sip of the steaming beverage. "And, in regards to heat, we had a power surge. Most of the units were blown out. I'm not sure when the repairman will get here. I'm using a space heater for the time being". Taking another sip, she attempted to divert his attention. "Have you been able to get to the beach? I would be lying if I said I wasn't envious of you getting to sink your toes in the sand".

"Not yet," he rolled his eyes.

_'Typical Mac, always trying to be tough'_.

"But don't change the subject. I'm 3,000 miles away, but I can be home in just a few hours".

Mac sighed. "This is why I didn't want to say anything. You don't need to worry, we're fine, I promise".

"You keep saying that, but I'm not convinced. How many space heaters do you have? One can't possibly keep that apartment warm".

She blew out a breath, and, under his persistent questioning, she relented. "One. But I've got it set beside him so he's not cold".

"One!? Mac, your living room is huge. You've got to be freezing!". He racked his brain for a solution. "This not acceptable. At all."

"Harm, don't worry. I'm a Marine. I've slept in worse situations, believe me".

"This isn't the battlefront nor are you in combat" he pointed out. "Look, give me a minute to figure out something. You don't need to be sleeping in freezing temperatures". He gripped the window frame in frustration. 'Do her hardships ever end?'

At the sound of Matthew muttering in his sleep, Mac was forced to cut their conversation short. "Harm, I'm really sorry, but I gotta let you go. He's starting to wake up. I need to get his evening medications ready. I'll check in with you later, okay? Please don't worry, I'll be fine". She emphasized the last words even though she felt anything but fine. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her heart ache with need.

There was a long pause, and Mac knew his brow was furrowed in concentration, as it so often was when he was faced with a challenging situation.

Harm rubbed his chin in thought, staring out at the storm that continued to rage just beyond the window. Despite being 3,000 miles away, there had to be something he could do. "Alright ninjagirl, but if I don't hear from you by 1000, I'm calling you."

Her voice took on a teasing edge. "1000 is kind of early for you, don't you squids need your beauty rest?"

Harm shook his head, a grin crossing his face at her remark. Their banter was something he certainly missed on the days she wasn't in the office. "That's 1000 for you, jarhead. I thought I'd give you a little extra time to get prepared. You know, since you Marines take forever".

She sighed theatrically, though the teasing was evident in her voice. "I would have thought being partnered with me all these years, you would know by now that I stay prepared. We sure can't depend on you Navy men for anything. You leave when the going gets tough. Or did you forget?"

_'All these years...….'_

Her words echoed in his head, causing his heart to squeeze in regret at how many chances they'd been given. How many opportunities he'd wasted, how much time he'd wasted on other people, on excuses…always thinking that time stood still for them. Yet all the while, he knew better.

_'We can't depend on you Navy men….leave when the going gets tough…..'_

Was her comment a hidden message? Was it more than just a teasing jab at the Navy in general, an easy target for their playful, comfortable camaraderie? He'd helped with Matthew's care whenever he could, but at the end of the day, he realized the burden of his care ultimately fell to her.

Irritated, Harm didn't know what he hated the most in that very moment: the fact he was more than two time zones away from her, or that he felt he was undependable.

"Harm, you still there?"

Her apprehensive voice nudged him out of his brooding. "Yeah," he paused, biting his lip in contemplation, "I'm still here. Just thinking, that's all".

She calmed the anxiety that preoccupied his mind. "Harm, I'm ok. I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever".

There it was, again. Her uncanny, and sometimes, unnerving ability to read his thoughts...even across a telephone line that connected them from thousand of miles away.

"Me either, Sarah," he sighed, dropping his head against the forearm that rested on the window-frame, "me either".

She felt the tears spring to her eyes at his use of her given name, and she struggled to control her wavering voice. "Goodnight, Harm".

"Goodnight, Sarah. Sweet dreams".

The line disconnected them, leaving him feeling infinitely worse than before. A few moments passed while he studiously racked his brain for a workable solution to get heat to her. He knew Mac would sacrifice her own comfort to ensure those she cared about were taken care of. He also knew the temperatures in Virginia this time of year tended to hover dangerously above the freezing mark. In her explanation of the situation, she did not seem very optimistic that the heat would be repaired before the following morning.

_'Come on, Rabb! Think! You've flown hundreds of challenging missions, surely there's a way to solve this problem! There has to be a way to bring heat to her apartment'_

She had a key to his apartment and could stay there if it was just her, but there was Matthew to consider, and naturally, he took priority. Moving him was completely out of the option. Not only would he not have his hospital bed, he was in such a weakened state that he was afraid Mac would hurt herself trying to handle him.

He briefly considered suggesting they stay the night with one of her neighbors, but then realized she'd stated her entire side of the complex was without heat. Furthermore, she did not know any of her neighbors on the bottom levels, and Harm did not want them staying with complete strangers.

After another long moment spent racking his brain, an idea popped into his head, and he snatched up the phone to make another call. He tapped his foot impatiently while it rang on the other end.

Harm breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar voice rumbled over the line after the third ring.

'Thank God for the small things!'

"Hey, I know I've been asking for a lot of favors lately, but I need to send you on a really important mission..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2100 ET

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Matthew dozed off and on, the substantial increase in medications taking time to regulate his system. He'd not eaten anything all day, but as Mac found it increasingly difficult to get him to stay awake long enough to even take his medications, let alone eat, she'd decided to leave him be.

Perusing the tv channels, she settled upon a documentary on WWII, listening to the narrator provide a play-by-play on the major battles. A long-time history buff, she was quickly ensconced in numerous tales of harrowing maneuvers, unprecedented acts of heroism, and a nation's utter commitment to unconditional defeat against a myriad of enemies. So engrossed in the documentary, she was fairly startled when a soft knock sounded at the door. A puzzled expression crossed her face. Hospice had been by to visit earlier in the day, and the repairman had not called. It was impossible for Harm to have been able to get back in the three hours since she'd talked to him….

She quickly went to the door to check the security lens, thoroughly confused to find two familiar people patiently waiting. She immediately wretched the door open, unable to mask her surprise.

"Sturgis? Harriet? What are you doing here? Is everything ok?"

He was the first to speak. "Hope we're not bothering you, Mac, but Harriet and I had a few things we needed to drop off".

In one hand, Harriet held a casserole dish; in her other, a cloth shopping bag full of what appeared to be groceries. Two tall boxes stood between them.

Keeping her voice low so as not to wake Matthew, she quietly gestured them inside. "You are certainly not bothering me, come on in". She propped the door open with one foot and helped Sturgis drag the boxes across the threshold.

"Harm called me about your heating situation. I went by the hardware store to pick up some space heaters, and Harriet made her shepherd's pie".

"I remember how much you liked it when I made it for the potluck dinner last month," Harriet explained. "And of course, it's always a hit with the boys. They said to send you their love".

Mac sought to relieve her of the dish and bag. "I was actually wondering what I was going to do about dinner. I'm low on groceries, but he's been so sick that I really don't want to leave him alone. Plus, I don't know when the repairman will come by to fix the unit".

Sturgis began unboxing the first heater, surveying the apartment to see where it was needed the most.

She gestured towards her bedroom. "I've had to close off all non-essential areas to keep the heat in. It's freezing in my bathroom, and that's the one hospice uses for Uncle Matt".

He promptly sat off in the direction of her room, the cold draft washing over him the moment he broke the seal on the door. Shaking his head with dismay, he frowned. "Mac, it's freezing in here. You should have called me. I would have come immediately".

"I know, but you guys are busy with your own lives," she shrugged in apology, "I didn't want to bother anyone".

Harriet stepped beside her and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "Mac, you're NEVER a bother to anyone. We want to help. That's what family is for".

Reaching up to squeeze her hand, Mac offered a grateful smile. "You guys are one in a million". Her friend's thoughtfulness nearly brought tears to her eyes. She was a lucky woman, indeed, to have people around her that cared so much.

Sturgis emerged from the bedroom where'd he set the heater. "These heaters have a thermostat, so when it hits 70 degrees, it will shut off and turn back on when the temperature drops. It should keep the room comfortable". He unboxed the second heater, looking at her for direction on where to place it.

"That one would probably do best in front of the kitchen. I have to go in there several times a day to prepare his medication regime. Plus, I don't need the pipes to freeze".

He nodded and set off for the kitchen.

Harriet began to unpack the groceries on the dining table, which Mac noticed with an element of curiosity, were many of her comfort foods: vanilla yogurt, blueberries, hot chocolate, and breakfast biscuits. There was only one person who would know this information...

"Harm sent this; said since he can't go get them himself, he'd ask us to". Harriet answered her unasked question. "He wanted you to know he cares, Mac".

Tears threatened to well up in her eyes at this, and she averted her gaze while she hastily swiped at them. She was embarrassed for them to see her cry.

"Thank you Harriet, Sturgis" her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I mean it".

Harriet framed her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. "No need to thank us. We love you, Mac. And so does Harm". She smiled, bringing her in for a tight hug. "Now, I'm going to put the casserole in the oven to heat, so if you'll give it about thirty minutes, it should be hot enough to eat".

She realized, with a frown, that she hadn't had anything substantial since her date with Harm on Friday. "I must admit I'm pretty hungry. And you are an excellent cook". Despite the anxiety that had plagued her since Harm's departure, leaving her stomach in knots and without much of an appetite, the thought of Harriet's delicious casserole made her mouth water.

Walking them to the door, Mac realized she had never felt so much a part of a family as she did in that singular moment. The very fact that her friends would drop what they were doing help her meant more than she could ever express.

"Harm gave us strict instructions to tell you, if you need ANYTHING at all, you are to call us immediately. Is that understood?" Sturgis pulled on his gloves as he spoke, giving her a look that made no room for arguments.

A smile stole across her face, and she nodded. "Perfectly. Thank you both, again, for everything".

"Anytime. I'll be calling in a report shortly to update him on the status of the mission".

With a laugh, Mac asked, "And what mission was that?"

Sturgis looked over his shoulder as the pair set out for the elevator. "Operation Family".

A moment of silence passed. Mac swallowed the lump that suddenly jumped in her throat. "Please inform him that Operation Family was a success".

Sturgis tipped his head in acknowledgement, stepping into the elevator. "Will do Mac. This was one mission I'm glad I was assigned. It was worth it".

As the elevator doors closed behind them, she realized, with a sense of profound understanding, that she was home. And not just in the physical sense. The feel of belonging and family she'd searched for her entire life had been parked right under her nose. She'd just been too blind to notice! Wiping the tears from her eyes, she sent a prayer of profound thanks to the Universe.

Maybe it wasn't going to be such a long weekend after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1845 PT

The Burnette's Rental Condo

La Jolla, CA

As he lounged against the deck railing of the deck, the late afternoon breeze ruffled Harm's hair, providing a welcomed relief from the lingering heat of the sun. Sturgis had called him a few minutes prior, informing him the mission was a success. He'd also confirmed that except for the area around Matthew's bed, the apartment was freezing, and Mac's cupboards were fairly absent of any substantial food goods. While he was relieved to hear all was well, he was left increasingly frustrated. He knew Frank couldn't help his injury, and he certainly was not upset with him. He was just upset with life itself. It was as if it was doing everything it could think of to keep them apart while piling more problems on Mac.

Raking a hand over his face, Harm allowed his attention wander to a couple that walked the shoreline, swinging their small child between them. Although several yards in distance, it was clear, from their body language, they were enjoying themselves. The father picked the boy up and threw him gaily into the air, before setting him gently on his feet. The little boy shrieked with glee as he took off running, his haphazard movements kicking up small tufts of sand. In his wake, they were quickly smoothed over with the changing tide, and he zigzagged in and out of the encroaching water. The mother, undeniably well into pregnancy, left the task of pursuit of the boy to the father. She rubbed her belly while maintaining a slow pace behind them, occasionally waving whenever they would turn to survey the stretch of distance between them.

Harm's heart clenched at the scene playing out in front of him…oh what he wouldn't give to be that man, with Mac walking beside him, their child between them, another growing in her belly. They'd made a promise three years prior, a bet, that if neither were involved in a relationship five years from that point, they would go halves on a kid. Only three years had passed, but to Harm, it was a lifetime. The two years remaining on their self-imposed timeline seemed like an eternity. If there even was an eternity with her in it.

Many sleepless nights (he'd lost count as to the number, really) were spent with his thoughts centered upon her, and only her. His dreams centered upon how it would feel to hold her in his arms just as he did that night in the Afghan desert...how it would feel to cradle her face in his hands as he poured every bit of his heart and soul into making beautiful love with her…how much better he would sleep knowing she was there to see him through his nightmares, his fears, his restless thoughts….through it all. He would wake with such a profound sense of heartache and longing that it was all he could do to keep from ripping the phone from its cradle to phone her. Or worse: drive over to her apartment and beat on the door until she woke up. Nine out of ten times he was able to stop himself in time, only because he'd realized it was, quite literally, the middle of the night. The other singular time he'd managed to talk some sense into his brain….but only after he'd found himself standing in front of her dark apartment, hand poised to knock. With a sense of disbelief washing over him, he'd returned to the car, beleaguered as to how he'd arrived there in the first place.

The following mornings always found him subsequently with a restless disposition, but despite this, he managed to convince everyone that he had it together. Tough, sensible, grounded Harmon Rabb, Jr had it together. Yet, his peers remained blissfully unaware his resolve, as well as his tenacity, were hanging by the thinnest of threads. He'd convinced himself that he was in control. He had a grip on reality. His emotions. And all of it was one big, dirty lie.

And then he would sit across from her at staff call. Her presence would once again test his resolve. He'd see her brown eyes furrowed in concentration, smell her perfume when it wafted over him, hear her laugh at some joke or funny story that Harriet would share about their godson. He'd find his control slipping; found himself wrapped up yet again, in thoughts of her and their children. Ah, yes, children. Children, in the plural sense, because creating just one beautiful, precious life with her would not be enough. It could never be enough. Although the topic of children had never been discussed at length (aside from little AJ's day of birth), he'd suspected she shared his sentiments to have more than one, especially since they grew up as only children. Besides, he'd tease, they had to have one of each: one with her looks and his brains, and one with his looks, and her brains. And then one with all four, of course, because neither of them were gracious losers.

_'I'd give anything to trade places with that man'._

The longing ran thru his body like a jolt of electricity, searing every fiber with unrelenting anguish. It seized his heart in a vice-like grip that nearly choked the life out of it.

So caught up in his thoughts of her and what their life could be like, he failed to notice his mother slip out onto the deck. She observed him quietly, noting the slump of his shoulders, as though some invisible weight rested on them. It was the tale-tell sign of resignation she had come to know so well. He was her son, after all. She always knew when her child was hurting.

When several long moments passed without him acknowledging her, she quietly made her presence known.

"Care if I join you, Harm?"

Her voice broke into his thoughts, causing him to jerk his head up at the unexpected intrusion. Shifting a few paces to the right, he flashed a rather subdued smile, then gestured towards the now-empty space. "No, not at all, mom".

She stepped beside him, leaning her head against his bicep. "Pretty peaceful out here, isn't it?"

The small family had paused their stroll so the boy could throw, presumably a starfish, back into the ocean. The husband reached out to tug his pregnant wife closer. The three turned their backs to their audience to take in the setting sun.

"Yeah, it sure is. I really wish I could get out here more often. But with my job,…." he paused, biting his lip in restrained frustration, "I feel like all I ever do is go to work or go TDY on an investigation, and come home. Wash, rinse, repeat".

Something in his voice pricked Trish's maternal instincts. She lifted her head to regard her son with careful scrutiny. Ever since he'd arrived, he'd not been himself, as though his mind and body were in two different places. He seemed different….restless. Despite her son's tendency to keep his personal thoughts buried under miles of red tape, it could not prevent her maternal intuition from surfacing. Following his phone call to Mac that afternoon, his restlessness only seemed to increase, and as such, Trish had a pretty fair idea as to the cause.

"You don't sound happy, Harm. What is it? Do you not like your job anymore?"

"Ohhh it's not the job. I love what I do, Mom. And I know I'm really lucky to be where I am in my career. It's just….." he trailed off, unable to articulate what he was feeling in his heart. Despite his commanding presence and incredible orator abilities in the courtroom, when it came to her, his words and wits scattered to the wind, leaving him stumbling like a wayward fool into the abyss. His eyes remained transfixed on the little family, watching as the little boy hugged his mother's leg. The father leaned in to give her a soft kiss, lovingly covering her hand where it lay against her swollen belly. The ache to have what he so desperately wanted was so strong it threatened to overwhelm him before he could get a handle on his emotions.

Trish, seeing her son's attention focused elsewhere, followed his gaze to where the family remained on the beach. And it was then that a profound sense of understanding dawned upon her. The desperation written so clearly in his expressions cut her to the core. As his mother, the very woman who'd carried him and experienced deep, seething pain to bring him into this world, she could not keep her heart from breaking for him. She laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"It's not out of reach, baby. All you have to do is take the first step".

"I know." He scuffed his shoe against the railing, the two words scattering like sand into the wind shifting between them. He felt every man Mac had been with had either taken advantage of her, used her, or hurt her, and he didn't want to be just another man to add more chinks to an already fractured heart. Over the course of the previous weeks, he'd felt that, for the first time, they were on solid ground. Together.

"I don't want to rush her, Mom. She deserves better; so much better than what I can give". His gaze remained fixated on the scene before them. "But I want that. With her". He motioned towards the family that had begun to walk back, "Before I'm too old to enjoy it. Before it's too late. And I feel like our chance is slipping away". A look of anguish, as angry as the storm that had come just hours prior, swirled deep within his eyes. "Am I selfish?".

She gently framed his face, bringing his eyes level with hers. "Any man who loves a woman and wants to be with her, wants to love her, heart and soul, for who she is inside...can never be considered 'selfish'. And you're never too old to enjoy real, true love". She paused with retrospect. "Do you know how old I was I when I met Frank?"

The question caught him by surprise, and his brow furrowed in contemplation. "I'm not sure, Mom. I guess," he shrugged, "I guess I really never thought about it".

"I was 33. You were ten. After losing your father," Trish's voice trembled, and she glanced towards the setting horizon, "I thought I would never find someone to love again, let alone someone who would love me like he did. I was afraid no man would be interested in a 'plus-one'". She turned back to him, a smile lighting up her eyes. "But boy was I wrong!" She caressed his brow, as she'd done so many times when he was little. "Harm, I really do believe if something is meant to be, the universe will wait, no matter how long it takes".

Harm shook his head in disbelief. "Strange you say that, Mom. Sturgis told me almost the exact same thing just a few weeks ago".

With a sly grin, she gently nudged him in the ribs. "Well, don't you think that maybe fate is trying to tell you something? Or is that Rabb stubbornness hanging on for dear life?"

Her comment earned a quiet laugh from him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I'm listening, believe me, Mom. But, at least I come by my stubbornness honestly".

"That you do, sweetheart. That you do." She squeezed him in affection, then steered him towards the patio door. "Now, let's eat. Frank cooked excellent shrimp etouffee. You'll love it".

As she stepped ahead of him into the condo, he glanced over his shoulder once more, at the family that had all but disappeared from his sight.

_'Sarah, just wait on me. Our time is coming, I promise'._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

:: END CHAPTER SIXTEEN::


	18. Chapter 17

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Seventeen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1000

Break Room

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Mac returned the carafe to the hot plate, hoping the hot liquid would somehow breach the haze she'd found herself aimlessly floating in. She took a long gulp, barely wincing when the hot liquid nearly scalded the back of her throat. It was her first day of the workweek, yet she felt like she'd been there ten years. Between the heating going out, and Matthew's sudden but accelerated decline over the weekend, she was utterly exhausted. She hadn't slept well the night before, troubled by the angst that kept her awake and then nightmares when she finally did manage to close her eyes. Even if she hadn't already been feeling as if her bones were coated in lead, the weekend had been emotionally draining.

The hospice nurse's report confirmed Mac's suspicions: despite the palliative treatment regime designed to slow the spread, the medications were no longer effective. The cancerous tumor in his stomach had accelerated its growth, such that it was now invading his intestines, along with the lower portion of his esophagus. And then she was delivered the crushing blow: he had possibly three weeks left, with the chances of him living to see the turn of the year limited, at best. Following a heart-to-heart discussion with the nurse, Mac made the painful decision to discontinue his treatments. While she wanted nothing more than to keep Matthew with her for as long as possible, she loved him enough to not prolong his suffering. In her eyes, to do so was inhumane, and while life was being cruel to him, she refused to be a willing participant.

Every time she thought the moments that would be soon to come, the moments having to live her life without him, the tears would come almost uncontrollably. She had spent several long minutes sobbing in the bathroom after the nurse left, but had quickly rinsed her eyes, then applied a few artful brushstrokes of makeup to conceal the evidence. She couldn't imagine what he was enduring. It was so real, so raw, completely out of her realm of experience even thought she was living it with him.

As if this recent turn of events were not cause for enough stress, she had awoken on Monday morning with the beginnings of a nasty head cold. She'd taken enough medicine to put a horse to sleep, but it didn't seem to make a dent whatsoever in the symptoms. The work was piling up, the office was down four people (well, four and a half, including her), and she couldn't afford to miss today, even if she was on FMLA. She had a sentencing hearing to attend that morning, and with Harm out, there was nobody available to stand in for her.

Ah, Harm.

There wasn't an hour that went by when he wasn't on her mind. Not a tick of the clock where he didn't occupy every fiber of her thoughts. He was due to return home the following evening, yet it felt a lifetime away. They had last spoken on Monday afternoon (his time). It was blaringly obvious by in the quality of his voice that he was just as exhausted, so she withheld details of Matthew's sudden decline. Besides, she was struggling to stay awake long enough to talk to him. It was all she could do to keep the tears at bay. The last thing she wanted was an emotional phone call from her to cause him to unnecessary worry. Because of their mutual fatigue, the phone call had been shorter than usual, and when she hung up, she felt worse than ever before. She missed him. She ached for him.

Just the very thought of Harm was enough to flay her entire nervous system into one emotional mess. Mac took another gulp of her coffee, rubbing her burning eyes with the back of her hand. She was so tired she wanted to cry.

"Morning Mac!" Sturgis greeted cheerily while he breezed thru the door, whistling a Christmas tune. "Got any big plans for the holidays?". He made a beeline to the coffee pot, intent on topping off his mug during the brief adjournment for his client's trial.

He stopped short upon her lack of response, as well as seeing the exhaustion emanating from her body.

"Hey, Mac? You alright?"

Too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice he'd entered the room, much less addressed her, she startled a bit when he touched her elbow to summon her attention.

Flashing him an apologetic smile, she stepped aside so he could access the carafe. She pinched the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to relieve some of the sinus pressure. It was only getting worse, and the bottle of Dayquil ® was calling her name. Her voice was stuffy when she spoke. "I'm sorry, Sturgis. What did you say? I wasn't listening".

"I was wishing you a good morning and was asking what your plans are for the holidays, but from the sound of it, it looks like Santa could bring you some cold meds, and maybe," he gestured towards the coffee cup in her hand, "some more coffee."

She glanced down at the cup, then back up at him, slightly confused. "Santa?"

He peered at her carefully. "Yeah. Christmas is just over a month away. Thanksgiving is next week".

_'Had this year really flown by that fast?'_

She shook her head in regret, the words taking a moment to sink thru her exhaustion. "Honestly, with everything that's been going on at home, and trying to stay active here, I've lost track of the holidays".

Sturgis fought the urge to knock his own teeth out. "I'm sorry Mac. I didn't think…I didn't mean to be so insensitive. Of course you aren't thinking about the holidays".

She set his mind at ease with a gentle touch on his shoulder. "No worries, Sturgis, really". She set her coffee mug aside before turning the conversation towards him. "What about you? Any big plans with Bobbi?"

Sturgis gave her a raised eyebrow, to which she managed a small smirk.

"I'm not the only one who's name gets churned in the rumor mill".

"So I see". He grinned, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, I thought about taking her to Vermont to attend the Galaxy of Lights Festival. My hometown puts it on every year. It's a lot of fun; a nice break from the hustle and bustle of city life. But, I don't know…. Bobbi doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who'd be interested in small-town America." He shrugged. "I haven't asked her. Guess you can say I'm afraid she'll turn me down".

Bud suddenly poked his head around the corner, interrupting the conversation. "Sorry to interrupt, Commander, Colonel, but the jury is coming back from recess".

"Ah, thank you Lieutenant. I'm right behind you".

He shoved away from the counter, tipping his coffee cup in departure. "Court calls. Catch you later, Mac". He was almost to the door when her nasally voice called softly after him, halting his steps.

"Hey Sturgis?"

He turned towards her with a curious look. "Yeah?"

"If Bobbi turns you down, she really is the fool I never thought she'd be". A wan smile crossed her face before she picked up her own mug and made to exit the breakroom.

Sturgis considered her words for a moment. "Thanks, Mac". He slipped past the doorway, his thoughts trailing far behind him.

Maybe he would phone Bobbie tonight and ask her after all….

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1115 PT

San Diego International Airport

San Diego, CA

"We sure hate to see you go, Harm. You were a lifesaver. I don't know how we would have moved everything without your help". Frank shook his step-son's hand, then brought him in for a brusque hug. The early years spent raising a rebellious Harm were by no means an easy time in his life, but Frank could not be any prouder of the man Harm had turned out to be, and he loved him as though he were his own flesh-and-blood. As a child, Frank had contracted one of the worst cases of mumps ever recorded in his county of residence, and unfortunately, the residual effects had rendered him permanently sterile. Thus, he grew up with the knowledge he would never father children of his own, and as he entered his thirties, the prospects of meeting a woman who would desire to be with him knowing this was significantly waning. And then, out of the blue, he'd met Trish.

A mutual friend had introduced the two on a whim during a weekend local art festival. He was instantly smitten with the fiercely independent Trish who had, at such a young age, already suffered so much loss in a short period of time: her father, her father-in-law, and then her husband. Yet, despite this, she remained as open, loving, and affectionate as ever. And oh, little Harm! What a pistol he was, most certainly a chip off the old block. So intently protective of his mother that it took quite some time for him to even warm to Frank's presence. And while it was never Frank's intention to lessen the impact Harm Sr had left behind, Frank had quickly grown to consider Harm as a surrogate son.

"Frank, after everything you did for me all those years, well….," Harm squeezed his hand firmly, a rare show of emotion flickering in his eyes, "it's the least I could do. I just hate I can't do more right now".

Frank roughly cleared his throat, unaccustomed to seeing such displays of affection from his step-son. "You just take care of yourself, son. And Sarah." He gestured towards Trish. "And please, for the love of all that is holy, come visit us soon so I won't have to hear her complain every day. A man can only take so much, you know".

Trish playfully swatted her husband on the arm before wrapping Harm in a bearhug. "You'd better not let another eight months go by before we see you again. Keep us updated on Sarah and her uncle". Her face took on motherly concern. "I worry about her, Harm. I love her like she's my own. You should be ashamed you haven't arranged for me to meet her yet." She ended her mock tirade by placing a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled. "I'm sorry, mom. I know you two would get along well. When things settle down for the both of us, I plan on making a trip out here with her, if that's okay with you".

She grasped his hand. "It's more than okay. We'd be simply over the moon to have her. Besides, I'm dying to meet the woman who's managed to shove me from the number one spot in your heart". She winked at him playfully.

"I'll see you soon, I promise".

"You'd better, young man. You may be grown, but I can still bend you over my knee to give that behind of yours a swift spanking!" she chastised, her eyes misting over with tears when he turned to leave. "Now get home and take care of our girl!"

Harm adjusted his backpack, then grabbed his luggage handle. "I'll call when I land. Love you both". A final round of hugs, kiss, and handshakes were dispensed before he set out for the security checkpoint, gave a final wave, then turned the corner and disappeared from their sight.

Frank heard his wife's quiet sniffles, and he tugged her closer with his unbandaged arm. He squeezed her shoulder in affection. "She'll be alright, Trish. They both will".

"Oh Frank, I wish you could have heard him the other night…." she stopped short, her voice wavering. "The way he talks about her, the look in his eyes when he's thinking about her. He loves her so much. I just hope they give it a chance".

He dropped a quick kiss on the crown of her head. "If you can give life and love a second chance, Trish, anybody can".

For certain, her decision to let love in again had been the biggest blessing of his life. He only hoped that Harm would experience the same before it was too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1315 MT

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

The copier in the bullpen steadily hummed while it churned out the pre-briefing booklets AJ set to print. With so many of his staff out of pocket, it was unusually quiet, and the lack of bodies to absorb the sound made the machinery noise echo rather loudly. Mattonni and Imes were TDY at NAS, Singer was in Norfolk investigating a homicide investigation, and Turner and Roberts were teamed up in court. Harm was due back that evening, but in AJ's eyes, it wasn't a moment too soon.

His current position at the copier afforded a straight line of view into Mac's office, and AJ took the opportunity to carefully study his Chief-of-Staff at her desk. He watched as Mac rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, then rest her head in her hands. His concern over her wellbeing had increased over the past few days. Although the quality in work had not slipped so much as an inch, and she was dutifully fulfilling her self-requested three half days a week, he could tell she was burning the candle at both ends. He'd been keeping a watchful eye on her, ready to step in if need be. If office scuttlebutt were true, the events over the previous weekend highlighted his suspicions that Mac was keeping a lid on her struggles. And it was evident, based on the scene playing out in front of him, that she wasn't taking care of herself, either.

Leaving the freshly printed copies to cool in the paper tray, he quietly approached her partially open door. In the small confines of her office, he heard faint sniffles. His heart clenched: she had been crying. Torn between retreating to leave her dignity intact, or letting his presence be known, he wavered long enough to see her drop her head to her arms. Which of course, quickly made his mind up. Unaware of his presence, he stepped beside her desk and gently touched her shoulder.

"Colonel?"

Upon realizing her Commanding Officer had entered her office, she immediately rose to attention. She was unsteady on her feet, the fatigue so clearly etched on her face that AJ felt even Stevie Wonder could have seen it.

"Whoa, Mac, at ease," he grasped her by the shoulders to steady her, "sit down". Once she had returned to her seat, he settled himself on the edge of the desk.

He took in her appearance, and her surroundings, with an element of concern. Her eyes held a glazed look; her nose rubbed raw, face swollen. The trashcan was nearly overflowing with used tissues, and a bottle of Dayquil ® sat on the desk. It was then that he realized she hadn't been crying.

She was sick!

'Well I'll just be damned. When it rains, it pours'.

"Admiral, my apolo-" she began to apologize, but AJ immediately waved her response away before gesturing towards the two thick file folders that sat on the desk beneath her forearms.

"What are you working on?"

"The Draper and Vanburg files, sir", her voice hoarse and thick, "I'm working on case closure".

He shook his head. "You may secure for the day, Colonel".

An element of surprise crossed her face when she squinted at the clock above her door. "Sir, it's only 13-"

AJ fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I know very well what time it is, Colonel. And it's time for you to go home. You're sick."

"It's just a head cold, sir. I'll be fine," she attempted to dismiss his concerns, "no need to send me home".

AJ stared at her blankly. He didn't believe her for one second! "I don't believe that was a recommendation, Colonel".

Resigned to his orders, she made a move to tuck the files into her briefcase, intending to continue her work at home. "Yes, sir".

"Leave those". He put a hand out to still her movements. "Lieutenant Sims will finish them".

It was Mac's turn to stare. "With all due respect, sir, these files require a great deal of work. Lieutenant Sims is in the middle of closing Imes' and Mattonni's files. She does not have the time-". She broke off as she suddenly turned to cough into her elbow, a deep rattle emerging from her chest.

'Has she even been to the doctor?'

He bit back a sigh.

"None of that is your concern, Colonel. But, if it will ease your mind to know, I've assigned Tiner and the new intern, Lieutenant Williamson, to assist Lieutenant Sims. They need the practice. We need the help. It's a win-win for everyone".

Mac only nodded, exhaustion having rendered her too tired to further object.

"If memory serves me correctly, Commander Rabb is due back this evening". It was more of a statement, than a question.

A look of relief -and something else- flickered in her eyes before she could catch it. "Yes sir, that is correct".

"Hmmm". AJ had seen the emotions flash across her face; his years of commanding junior officers had given him dan impeccable ability to decipher body language, along with its subtleties. He remained quiet for several seconds while he evaluated the delicate situation at hand. Undoubtedly, the casework had grown during Harm's absence, with more staff in the field than in the office. Additionally, the holiday season was just beyond the horizon, and as a result, leave requests were steadily trickling in. It would take quite a bit of planning on his, and Harriet's part, to plan staffing accordingly. But it didn't take a genius to realize Mac needed Harm far more than the office. With a slight nod of satisfaction, AJ stood up, set the case folders aside, then removed her coat from the rack. "Go home, Mac. That's an order". He assisted her in slipping into the coat, then handed her cover to her. "And get yourself to a doctor. I don't need the Bubonic Plague sweeping across this office and people dropping like dead flies".

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Yes sir. Understood sir".

"I'll walk you out. Besides," he paused as she pulled her office door shut, "I want to make sure you don't smuggle out any of those folders".

"I would never do such a thing," Mac scoffed with mock offense, a hint of amusement jumping to her eyes at her C.O's accurate, albeit somewhat disconcerting accusation.

He gave her a dubious look. "Yes, you would".

A quiet laugh escaped her. "The Commander once told me I'm never quite as sneaky as I think I am".

AJ pressed the elevator button and clasped his hands in front of him while they waited. He didn't need to know which 'Commander' Mac was referring to. It was obvious that only one could ever matter in her eyes. "They always say the ones that care about us the most are the ones that know us the best, would you agree?"

Mac peered at her C.O carefully, trying to decipher his words. As usual, his expression was void of emotion, except for a flash of twinkling mirth lurking underneath the decades-perfected staidness. She recalled, with clarity, the parting words of wisdom he'd dispensed upon conclusion of their dance at Matthew's birthday party. Once more, the Admiral was speaking volumes, while saying hardly anything at all.

"Yes sir, I would. I would agree".

And there was no doubt in either of their minds that she did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2100 MT

Dulles International Airport

Washington, D.C.

The moment Harm stepped foot out of the airport, his cellphone dinged with a voicemail alert. Navigating through the throng of parked cars in search of his SUV, he listened carefully to the recorded message. It was the Admiral, requesting him to return his call as soon as his flight landed. A chilled wave of fear washed over him.

Matthew hadn't passed, had he?

Surely Mac would have called him? His thumb immediately hit the redial button, his heart jumping into his throat as a million thoughts scuttled across his mind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

AJ flipped through the channels once more before resigning himself to the fact there was nothing worth watching. Just as his finger hovered over the 'off' button on the remote, the programming changed at the top of the hour. It was a special cover story sponsored by ZNN.

'In this evening's broadcast, we bring you another story from the frontlines, to highlight the struggles, the danger, and the life-or-death decisions our soldiers face each and every day. Tonight, we have Command Sergeant-Major Thomas Brown share his brush with death, and how split-second decisions can have far-reaching implications….'

AJ snorted in disgust. "What a waste of time. Nobody cares what our men and women go thru. All people want to do is give themselves a pat on the back by offering up the typical, 'Thank you for your service' quote, and a soldier is forgotten before the grass can begin to grow over his grave". He clicked the tv off, tossing the remote on the coffee table. As far as he was concerned, the frontline report was about as truthful as Singer's self-proclaimed love of handling petty case assignments.

Vacating the couch, he gathered his dinner dishes and was in motion towards the kitchen when his phone alerted him to an incoming call.

It was Harm.

'Thank God. Maybe he can talk some sense into Mac and get her to the doctor'.

"Rabb," he barked, "I take it your flight made it in safely. How was the move?"

Harm pressed the 'unlock' button on the keyfob as he approached his vehicle. "It was successful, sir, thank you. We got everything moved, save for a few boxes".

"Good, good. Now, Commander," -the clack of ceramic plates drifted over the line as AJ deposited his dirty utensils in the dishwasher-, "if I recall, I originally scheduled you to report to work tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir, that is correct". Harm quickly stored his luggage in the back of his Lexus, eager to get home for a quick shower, change of clothes, and head to Mac's. A hot shower sounded appealing after spending five hours cramped on a hot plane. He was so anxious to see her, he could hardly stand it. The past few days had put his heart thru the wringer; just hearing her voice during their phone calls was enough to make him tremble and ache with the need to be near her.

AJ's voice broke into his thoughts once more.

"You will report to work on Monday. I misread your leave request. I had you scheduled to come in tomorrow, the 13th. You requested off until the 18th. Next time speak up when you notice I've made an error".

Of course, Harm had not requested off thru the 18th, but Mac was sick, and she needed him. The workload at JAG, while heavy, was no worse for the wear, and as AJ believed, family DID come first. They would find a way to manage without them for the next few days.

Confused, Harm's hand stalled on the driver side door handle. He didn't remember asking for an entire week off work….

AJ continued before Harm could voice correction. "Serves me right for not getting new glasses sooner. At any rate, Commander, my apologies for the oversight". He paused. "Oh, and one more thing. Please stop by the Colonel's residence on your way home. It was a busy day at the office. I think she would benefit from your assistance".

"Yes sir…." Harm trailed off, attempting to decode what AJ was saying. As usual, his orders were cryptic, which was an often occurrence when AJ was trying to skirt the regulations…..without officially skirting them.

"Very well then, Commander. Enjoy your weekend. See you Monday".

The line went dead before Harm could say anything more. Shaking his head, he quickly assumed position at the wheel, fastening his seatbelt before navigating the SUV out of the parking garage. His thoughts drifted back to the kiss they had shared on their date, how eager her response was, the feel of her silky hair as it slid through his coarse fingers. Aside from his plethora of carrier traps, that one kiss had been as close to perfection as anything he had ever known, especially where she was concerned. It was sweet, full of promise, and so much more. He had spent the majority of the early morning hours before his flight to San Diego staring at the picture beside his bed, wishing he would have acted on his feelings so many months before.

He shook his head to clear those thoughts. It was in the past, there wasn't anything he could do to change it. But now, the future was theirs for the taking and he was determined to own it, His shower and change of clothes having dropped to the last spot on his priority list, the Naval lawyer set his sights on the one destination that had been beckoning since his flight to San Diego: Mac's apartment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2300 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

The lack of traffic on the roads made the commute to her apartment a rather expedited one, the street lights passing as quickly as did the thoughts in his mind. He had spent most of the flight from San Diego anxiously tracking the plane's progress on the flight tracker program on his entertainment screen. It didn't matter that they were hurtling through the air more than 500 miles per hour. To Harm, it seemed that time purposely took its sweet time, teasing him, antagonizing him. Each second that passed felt like an hour, each minute felt like forever. His entire being ached to be with her.

His entire time in San Diego, his dreams were filled with delicious visions of her; they were together in the most intimate of ways, both in heart and body. It was all he could do to resist the temptation to surpass the posted highway speed limit. He quickly whipped the SUV into the parking space alongside her Corvette, wasting no time in making his way to her floor. It was late in the night, and as he didn't want to risk waking the neighbors by knocking, he chose to let himself in with her spare key. He entered the apartment as quietly as possible, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the change in lighting.

He bit back a gasp.

Even from his position at the front door, it was obvious Matthew had worsened in the few days he'd been gone. The thin frame of his body was lumped in a small bundle beneath the covers. The coloring of his skin had taken on a more yellowish pallor, his cheekbones more prominent now than they were just a week prior.

Harm's jaw immediately tightened, drawing his mouth into a thin line. There was no way he was leaving again. He'd been away long enough. Too long.

Coming around to the front of the couch, Harm found the object of his heart asleep, curled up in a tight ball underneath a quilt. He crouched beside her and gently ran his fingers through her soft tresses.

"Mac?"

She stirred, sniffling in her sleep.

"Mac, wake up, I'm home". He traced the outer shell of her ear, skimmed across her eyebrows, then traversed down the slope of her pert nose before cupping her cheek.

Once more she stirred but did not fully awaken.

"Mac, sweetheart, it's me. I'm finally home". He rubbed his thumb across her cheeks, continuing his gentle tracing of her delicate features until she finally came to.

Disoriented, her face scrunched in momentary confusion at his presence. Her voice was croaky when she finally found her bearings and could speak.

"'arm? You're 'ome already?'"

An element of concern immediately furrowed his brow at the strained quality of her voice, and a quick hand against her clammy forehead confirmed his suspicions. "Oh Mac," he sighed forlornly, "you're burning up".

She made a soft sound of distress that drove splinters into his heart. "Tell me something I don't know, sailor".

"Come on, let's get you sitting up for a minute". He gently tugged on her forearms, helping her to an upright position so he could better evaluate her. Her face was pale, her nose swollen, eyes watery. He sat back on his heels and frowned. "You weren't like this when I talked to you Sunday night. When did you start feeling bad?"

"Monday morning". She turned away when a round of coughing suddenly seized her chest, and it was several long seconds before she could recover enough breath to finish her thoughts. "'arm, you need to go. You'll catch what I 'ave."

A quiet snort escaped him. "I don't give a damn, Mac. I've been away from you long enough". He brushed the damp locks off her forehead, a pang of guilt flashing thru him at the fatigue etched in her delicate features. "I'm going into the kitchen to make you some honey tea and get you some medicine. Don't try to get up".

She leaned her head against the back of the couch but kept her eyes closed. It was too painful to open them, even in the dim lighting provided by the few decorative lamps scattered throughout the living room. "Really, Harm. Go home. I'm already afraid Uncle Matt's going to catch it".

"Mac, if he does, it's out of your control. You're sick because you've been doing too much". He bent down to plant a kiss against her hot forehead. "And just try to make me leave".

She shook her head in protest, regretting the action almost immediately when the room tilted sideways. She grimaced. "You have to be at work at 0800. It's 2330. You need your rest".

"The Admiral gave me the rest of the week off. So, try again, ninjagirl".

She grumped. "That makes two of us. He put me on compassionate leave". Another round of coughing ensued, causing Harm to shake his head.

"Well, I'm sure you coming to work like this accelerated his decision". He sighed heavily, "Let me guess….you haven't been to the doctor to see about this cold, have you?"

She shrugged off his concerns. "It's just a cold. I'm fine".

"Wrong again. And I'll take that as a 'no'. So, as soon as the Urgent Care clinic opens tomorrow morning, I am making YOU an appt, and YOU will be going. Now," he stood up, tucking the blanket back over her, "I'm going to the kitchen, and you are staying put. Don't you move a muscle".

She cracked open an eye in his direction. "You go out to Cali for a few days and come back thinking you can boss me around".

Harm nodded, "Yep. And you'd do best to remember that". He reached out to playfully tweak her nose even as she made a half-hearted attempt to swat his hand away. "I'll be right back".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once the capful of cold medicine had been downed (followed by a disgusted expression from Mac), and the cup of herbal tea consumed, Harm left her alone on the couch once more, disappearing into her bedroom.

Confused, Mac listened intently for any signs of what he could be doing, but all she received was silence, and an occasional thud.

What exactly was he doing in there?

An aimless thought of him peeking in her lingerie drawer pleasantly rushed through her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. He was too much of a gentleman for that. Besides, she kept what little delicate lingerie she had tucked away in a chest in the bottom of her closet; there didn't seem to be any occasion that warranted them. Who was she going to wear them for? Dalton certainly didn't appreciate the expense, nor the effort she'd gone to on several occasions to include these in her wardrobe. He only cared about what she looked like on the outside, a sobering realization she'd come to upon breaking up with him. But then there was Harm…ever since their date nearly a week prior, she'd found herself giving considerable thought to bring the delicate items out of banishment.

A few minutes later, Harm returned from her bedroom, answering the silent question that lurked on her lips.

"I put a fresh change of sheets on your bed. You're sleeping in there tonight. This way, you'll be comfortable and can get a good night's rest. I'm taking the couch". He nodded towards Matthew. "I'll watch over him".

"Harm-" she attempted to protest.

He held up a hand. "No arguing, Mac. It's a done deal. Now let's go".

Realizing his mind was already made up, she simply nodded and allowed him to gently tug her to a standing position. She swayed against him, her body having difficulty adjusting to the sudden change in position. He instinctively tightened his hold on her, the blanket slipping between them to pool at her feet.

"Easy, Mac."

She leaned against his solid form with more weight than she desired. After all, she was a Marine, and years' worth of training taught her to never show weakness, especially in front of a man. However, a momentary thought flashed across her mind that she did not entirely hate being sick, considering she was tucked against his chest. His very muscular chest. She took a steadying breath, the faint scent of aftershave, fabric softener….and him, sending her senses into overdrive. Another wave of dizziness swept over her, but she wasn't quite convinced it was a result of her cold and not the proximity to which he stood.

"I'm okay, just stood up too fast," she mumbled against his chest, turning away to cough.

"You're probably dehydrated, too. I'll get you a bottle of water from the fridge. I want you to drink as much of it as you can".

She couldn't help but smile at Harm's penchant for going into protective mode, especially where she was concerned. "Yes, Doctor Rabb". She allowed herself another moment against his chest before placing a little bit of space between them. He steered them in the direction of her bedroom, keeping a firm arm around her waist. Once she was comfortable underneath the layer of covers and the bottle of water had been procured from the fridge, he settled himself on the edge of the bed. She reached for his hand, not quite ready to relinquish his presence. "How did the move go?"

"It went well. We got everything out. They both said to give you their love, and Mom chewed me a new one for having never brought you to visit. I told her given the current circumstances, we'd make a trip out there as soon as we can". He grinned. "I think I made her year with that statement".

She managed a small smile in return even as a pang of fear scurried across her heart at the prospects of meeting Harm's mother and step-father. From what she'd been able to infer in the years she'd been partnered with Harm, both Harm Sr and Trish had come from wealthy families. Not to mention, Frank had made an impressive sum with his investment portfolio and auto business. Harm had been afforded the best of opportunities, having attended private school most of his life; his Naval Academy education paid for before the ink was even dry on his driver's permit. He'd come from a stable home with not one, not two, but three loving parents. They were high class. With manners. Education. A family heritage that would make any person proud.

When it came to where she fit in, Mac didn't have a single clue. She was an unwanted product of a loveless marriage, where her father's dependence on alcohol took up vicious housekeeping, and where her mother valued her freedom over her own daughter's safety. She had ten different schools in just as many years, barely reaching the marks necessary to achieve her high school diploma. Without Uncle Matthew coming to straighten her out, she was convinced the bottle would have laid claim to its next victim before the sun could rise on her 19th birthday. And she assumed (incorrectly, of course) that had it not been for Colonel John Farrow going to bat for her to gain entrance to Duke University's Law Program, she would have amounted to nothing. Just like her father told her for sixteen consecutive years.

She sighed heavily, a quiet wheeze escaping her cold-riddled chest. "I'm sure you did. I'd love to meet them. They sound like wonderful people. I know you spent most of it working, but I hope you were able to enjoy some time at the beach".

He shook his head, sandwiching her delicate hands between his own. His rough calluses sent a delicious shiver down her spine when he rubbed the pads of his thumb over her knuckles. "Mac, those four days away from you…they felt like four years. Felt like an eternity. I hated it."

The familiar sting of tears tugged at the corners of her eyes. She understood, without him having to say another word. "It's interesting you say that…"

A curious expression drew his brows together. "What do you mean?"

"When you were gone, I…I mean, it made me think….," her voice stammered, "made me think about…". A fierce tinge of red swept over her cheeks in response to her embarrassment.

"Think about what, Mac?" His voice was quiet but encouraging, his eyes never leaving her face.

She looked away, flustered at these ridiculous feelings she couldn't seem to control. Anxiety made her bite her lip and fiddle with the crisp edge of her feather-stuffed duvet. Should she tell him? Even to her own ears, it sounded lame, like she was some clingy, needy girlfriend.

Wait. Girlfriend? Where did that come from?

'That's what you want, isn't it Mackenzie? Why is it so hard for you to believe he could possibly want that with you, too?' her conscience nudged.

"Mac? What did you think about?" he gently prompted.

"I just thought that...that if you not being here for just a few days was hard...how hard it would be if you…." she gestured between the two of them, "or me, for that matter, were ever deployed". She risked a hasty glance into his eyes. "Harm, I don't think I could handle that".

"Oh, Mac", he breathed, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing them against her knuckles. "I know I couldn't. That trip to Afghanistan was the first bad taste I got of us being in the hot zone like that. It scared the hell out of me. I didn't like it, at all".

"Well," she managed a small, teasing grin, "it wasn't all bad". At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "After all, I did get to spend the night in your arms".

A moment of silence fell between them, and his eyes were suspiciously moist when he finally spoke. "That was one of the best nights of my life, Mac. As terrified as I was for us to be sitting ducks in the middle of the desert, I'd gladly do it all over if it meant getting to hold you in my arms just one more time".

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, sweeping her hair out of her face. "And now it's time for you to get some rest. Goodnight, ninjagirl".

She nuzzled the underside of his jaw, dropping a spontaneous kiss on it. "Goodnight, flyboy".

He switched off her bedside lamp, and as he made to exit the bedroom, her stuffy voice called after him.

"Yeah?"

"You can hold me any time you want to, you know". She smiled at the memory of their conversation in Afghanistan, where he had teased about calling the front desk to send up a room divider. "You don't need to give me an invitation".

His luminous smile nearly lit up the now-darkened room. "Count on it, Sarah". He gave her one more long, lingering look before he pulled her bedroom door half-to, leaving her alone with her thoughts. As his long frame made quick work of the distance between her door and the couch, his heart ached at being away from her, even if it was only just a mere few feet. But she desperately needed her rest, and she wouldn't get any if he were constantly shifting in the bed to get up and check on Matthew.

He had the strangest feeling of peace when he was with her, as if all the chaos of the outside world, the anger, the bitterness, and the regret of so many lost chances could finally be swept away. And as he settled himself on the still-warm spot she'd occupied just moments prior, it suddenly occurred to him that home certainly wasn't the cold, sparse yet adequately furnished bachelor pad just north of Union Station. It wasn't the sandy beaches and sun-bleached boardwalks of La Jolla, California. It wasn't on a naval carrier at sea, surrounded by the sound of aircraft traps, the mixed smells of salt water and jet fuel, or the feel of the wind whipping aggressively at his flight-suit. Home was wherever Sarah Mackenzie laid her head and heart.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0400 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

Throughout the night, and well into the early morning hours, Harm had awoken on several occasion to adjust Matthew's oxygen, dispense medications, change pads, or turn him from side to side to avoid pressure sores. As he concentrated on the current task of applying ointment to Matthew's sacral area, Harm's mind studiously churned through different solutions, intent on finding one that would work. He knew most of the care had fallen to Mac, but he honestly had no clue what that entailed until now: Mac had been an expert at hiding her fatigue and downplaying her uncle's needs. The dark circles under her eyes, the manner in which her clothes were beginning to hang off her due to weight loss, not to mention the way her body teetered on the edge of collapse, made him sick to his stomach. It was easy to see how quickly Mac had become sick: he was nearly exhausted after tasked just one night with the level of care Matthew required.

He recalled a conversation he'd shared with Frank several years prior. He'd been a frustrated second-year Academy student, ready to throw in the towel on his 600 level Advanced Aeronautical Physics class. A class he was facing the prospects of having to retake. He had one last chance at salvaging a passing grade, but how was he going to learn 12 weeks of material in just three days? There was no easy solution…..

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_::FLASHBACK::_

1900 MT

USNA

Dorm 105

Annapolis, MD

December 1983

"Hey man, we're going downtown to Campus 910 for some beers and unwind before final exams. Wanna come?" Sturgis Turner asked, poking his head in the door. The rest of his dorm buddies were already well on their way, but Sturgis had hung back, hoping to convince his roommate to give up the pen and paper for just one night. And if Harm really was as in the hole on his grades in his Advanced Aeronautical Physics class as he had shared, one night of missed studying really wasn't going to make or break him. Sturgis saw the ugly writing on the wall, and so did Harm. Unless he pulled a rabbit out of the hat, it was obvious he was going to have to retake the class. Besides, there was more important stuff to do than try to salvage a near-failing grade: specifically keg stands, beer pong, and picking up the hottest girls at the Academy. Everyone knew that once the sun set on the college town ripe with a plethora of hormonal kids, the girl's hair came down and the skirts went up. And boy did they have fun….

Harm thumbed through a folder of notes, all of which were one big pile of confusion. He had his final exam coming up in two days, and he found himself dangerously flirting with a failing grade for his Advanced Aeronautical Physics class. If he failed it, he would have to repeat it next semester. He shrugged. "Sure, why not, man," he pointed towards the notebook on his desk, "I'm not going to learn this crap overnight". He stood to don his coat, but the dorm phone rang, and he crossed the room to answer it instead. A communal phone, it was anyone's best guess as to who the caller was.

"Dorm 105, Harm speaking".

A moment of silence, then his stepfather's familiar voice drifted over the line.

"Ah, so you are alive, indeed. Hey Trish!" Frank called in mock over his shoulder, "Your son still exists! He answered the phone".

Trish shook her head. She loved her son, but he could really be inconsiderate….or oblivious at times. She wasn't quite sure which one he'd been scoring lately. "Ask him if he got the care package we sent last week. I never heard from him and I got a letter in the mail saying there were delays at the naval post office".

Harm had the decency to look embarrassed when he overhead his mother's question, even though the expression, of course, was lost on both. "Tell her I did, thanks. I'm sorry, I meant to call sooner. I just…uh…yeah. Finals and all, busy time of the year," he finished lamely. The truth was, he hadn't given much thought to calling. Instead, he'd spent most of his evenings down at the local haunt, commiserating with his roommates while drowning his sorrows of dismal academic performance in the cheap, but tasty house beer.

"How's finals week looking?" Frank knew better than anyone what the cost of partying would do to a young man's academic scores, and he was no dummy when it came to Harm at the Naval Academy. It was basically a free-for-all after 5pm, in which overgrown-boys-not-yet-matured-into-men were let off the leash. He'd been keeping an eye on Harm's grades, and while he was not privy to all that went on behind closed dorm room doors, he had a pretty accurate idea of where they stood. Which was rock bottom. At least where his Advanced Aeronautical Physics class was concerned.

"Uh….I finished my other three. I've got my final for Advance Aeronautical Physics on Wednesday". Harm walked back to his desk, stretching the phone cord across the room.

He flashed an apologetic smile at Sturgis and pulled the receiver away from his mouth. "Don't wait on me. I'll catch up with you guys at the pub in just a bit".

Sturgis gave him a thumbs up and walked out, leaving Harm to finish his conversation without an audience.

"And how are you feeling about that? You had a D at midterms, if I remember right".

"It's…going to be tight. I, uh…I've got a D in there right now".

"Hmmm…." Frank trailed off. He knew Harm was smart, but became easily distracted when faced with options far more desirable than staying in and studying all night. And he had little self-discipline. "Am I calling at a bad time? I heard you say something about going out".

Harm grimaced. He hadn't intended for Frank to hear that part of the conversation.

"Harm…a real man will give it all he's got," Frank advised, not waiting for Harm to answer his question. He stepped aside so Trish could put her earrings in and touch up her lipstick in the mirror. He loved Harm, but damn if he couldn't be the most stubborn man on the planet. "A real man will belly up to the bar and find a solution that works, no matter how impossible the problem may seem.

Harm sighed. Frank was a good man, and far better a stepfather that some of his friends had. He knew he meant well, but he could seem so….out of touch. It was a snow-balls chance in hell that could salvage a passing grade out of the rock bottom markings he'd received thus far.

"Alright Harm, we just wanted to check on you. I need to go. Your mother and I are heading to a charity gala. It's your choice whether you want to spend your night studying or partying with the guys. But I'm going to repeat what I said earlier: a real man will find a solution, come hell or high water". He let his advice simmer for a moment. "We'll see in a few weeks. Love you son".

"Thanks Frank, tell mom I love her," Harm bid his stepfather bye, returning the handset to the cradle.

He turned his attention the framed picture of Trish and Frank taken during Spring Break in Florida. He sighed. Frank was right. It was time to pay his dues. And pay them, he would.

That night, Harm chose to stay in. He found a solution that worked for effective studying: using a timer to keep him on track, and recording his notes in the tape recorder, then using it to repeat his notes back to him. Three days later, he took his AAP class. Two days later, he received his exam grade: A+. One week later, he received his class grade: C-. He had passed.

_::END FLASHBACK::_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Returning the cap to the tube of ointment, Frank's long-ago imparted advice repeated itself in his head.

_'A real man will find a solution, no matter how impossible the situation may seem'._

And then, Harm stumbled upon the only feasible solution to Matthew's care needs and Mac's exhaustion.

He just hoped both would agree to it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN::


	19. Chapter 18

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Eighteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0800 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

The dryer alarm buzzed from behind the double doors leading into the laundry room, and Harm left the oats simmering on the stove-top so he could retrieve the finished load, the second one of the morning. When he'd changed Matthew's bedcovers in the night, he'd encountered a mountain of dirty laundry piled opposite the washer: a result of Mac being sick, frozen pipes from the heat having gone out that weekend, and Matthew's illness. It would take at least three to four loads to get it all washed, but Harm didn't mind. The Admiral had given him the rest of the week off, and as such, he had all the time in the world. Fishing the last remaining socks from the back of the dryer, Harm deposited the freshly laundered items into the wicker basket sitting on the floor beside him, then checked his watch. Mac had just over an hour to get showered, dressed, and eat a little bit of breakfast before her appointment.

Which reminded him….he needed to wake her up so she could get ready.

He had called the Urgent Care clinic (conveniently located a mere fifteen minutes from her neighborhood) the moment it opened for business. Fortunately, a slot was available for 0930, and he quickly secured it.

With his hip supporting the weight of the overflowing basket, a precursory check of the stove and toaster oven confirmed the pot of oatmeal and wheat toast were done. Leaving both to stay warm, he ventured into the living room to deposit the basket on the couch and glanced over at Matthew. He remained fast asleep.

_'Good. He needs the rest_,'

Harm thought to himself. He grabbed a fresh towel and washcloth from the pile, then quietly pushed open the door to Mac's bedroom to find she was already awake. Upon seeing him enter the room, she stretched briefly before throwing the covers aside.

"Hey sleeping beauty, time to get your butt in the shower. It's 0800. I was able to get you an appointment at the Urgent Care clinic for 0930". He stood beside the bed and helped her to a sitting position. "And I have breakfast ready".

Despite feeling like death warmed over, a small smile stole across her puffy face. "You managed to make me an appointment, and breakfast, all before the noon hour?"

Harm gave an exaggerated flourish of his hand. "I'm not one to brag…but I'd like to add I've also done two loads of laundry".

She rolled her eyes as she wiggled down from her perch. "I'm impressed with your time management skills, sailor. You usually can't manage to get to work on time".

"Can't blame me for trying to win your heart over," he winked and flashed her his infamous heart-fluttering grin before disappearing into the bathroom to turn on the shower. "And I'll have you know, I'm never late. Everyone else is simply an overachiever. Now get moving, Marine. You've got one hour-"

"Twenty minutes and six seconds before my appt. Yes, yes, I know. Thank you, Mr. Time Clock". She supplied with mock sarcasm, rummaging through her dresser drawer for a pair of jeans and sweater. She couldn't help but shake her head at his chivalrous, gentlemanly nature. And it was then that a slow realization began to dawn on her: the little things, the thoughtful gestures that to others, may have appeared insignificant, were really his way of showing her he cared about her.

Thought about her.

Loved her.

_'Oh dear god, how could I have been so blind all these years?_

She froze in place with the dresser drawer still pulled out, jeans and sweater still gripped in her many times had he gone out of his way to be there for her? How many times had he told her he loved her without saying the words?

"The water should be warm now. I'll have breakfast on the table when you get out". His sudden voice behind her startled her, and immediately he was at her side. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as he removed the articles of clothing from her grip, he set them on top of the dresser, then peered down to see her face. "Mac? You ok?"

Shaking her head in the affirmative, she pulled her thoughts together and managed to shut the dresser drawer. "Yeah. Just got lost in thought".

It really was all she could come up with. The sudden epiphany had left her reeling mind without the ability to string together a coherent response.

"Well it almost looked like you needed me to come in there and rescue you". He steered her in the direction of the bathroom, handing her clothes to her. "Now, get in there before the hot water runs out. That's an order!" He flashed her another smile as he went to exit the bedroom. He'd seen the far-off look in her eyes, as though a sudden realization had come upon her. But for what, he didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't want to push her to open up and talk. That almost never ended with positive results. Not to mention, she really did need to get moving.

Mac grasped his hand as he passed by her. She knew she didn't look anything like sleeping beauty, if the way she felt were any indicator. And yet, he looked at her as though she were a living china doll. "Harm?"

He paused, turning back towards her. "Yeah?"

"You already won my heart. A long time ago. "

He pulled her hand up to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles, then flatted her palm over his chest where she could feel it beating faintly beneath the layers of skin and cloth. "Doesn't mean I don't have to fight to keep it".

Her mouth went as dry as the Sahara Desert, and a shiver ran thru her at the intensity within his eyes. Warmth spread throughout her, lighting every muscle and nerve in her body, right down to her toes.

"Better get moving. Can't give the Marine Corps a bad name by being late". His voice was low, and there was a certain warmth to it that hadn't been there before.

"Aye aye, sir" she mumbled, having finally been able to unglue her stuck tongue from the back of her throat. It wouldn't do for her to try to say anything more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Following a hurried, but no less filling breakfast, Harm made quick work of the dishes, then shooed Mac out the door with strict orders not to return without medications, and a threat to call the physician if she wasn't completely honest with him. She voiced her displeasure at Matthew's failure to back up her claim that she was 'fine', but finally acquiesced and left the apartment in a mock huff.

As he set out with intentions to finish the rest of the laundry, Matthew called after him.

"Harm, uh…if you will hand me some wipes, I need to try to clean myself".

Abandoning the laundry, Harm shook his head. "No worries, Matt, I'll help you".

Embarrassment flicked across Matt's face. His dignity was all he had left, and it was quickly dissipating. "It's uh…bad, Harm. I need to get cleaned up before Sarah gets back. I don't want her um….," he trailed off, unsure how to finish his thoughts.

Harm offered up a better solution. "How about I help you with a shower? I know those bed baths hospice gives you can't be all that great".

The elder Marine glanced away, but not before Harm saw his eyes mist over. "That would be great, but...Harm…it's uh…everywhere," he clumsily gestured towards the soiled linens beneath him, "that pain medication upsets my stomach. I don't want to get anything on you".

The naval lawyer bent down to place a hand on Matt's shoulder. "If I had a dime for every time one of my shipmates threw up on me or in my car, or how many dirty drawers I had to take off them while I was at the academy, I wouldn't have to work to pay the bills".

Matthew managed a small chuckle at this. "Sounds like you had quite a wild ride at the academy".

"Some of the best days of my life. Until I came to JAG and the Admiral partnered me with Mac". Harm's eyes shone with warmth, and he pulled a fresh depends and tube of ointment from the drawer. "The water should still be warm from her shower. I'll go lay out your clothes, then I'll come back to get you".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac tossed the weathered magazine aside with a quiet huff, leaning her head back to rest against the drab tan walls of the waiting room. She was never one to cope well with waiting, especially when her mind was occupied with constructing a list of chores to be done at home. She glanced around the waiting room with several other patients scattered around. By her calculations, she was next on the list to be seen. The clock hovered at the 0929 mark, but she knew the time without having to look at it.

The waiting room door beside her flew open, and an older nurse in her fifties appeared, dressed in bright green scrubs decorated with a smattering of turkeys and pumpkins. She pulled her glasses down to survey her audience. "Mackenzie? Sarah Mackenzie?"

Mac waved in acknowledgement and stood to her feet, but she was a little too hasty in her movements. Her slight dehydration, combined with an impaired equilibrium, caused her to sway in response to the sudden change in position.

The nurse frowned in concern and quickly ushered her through the door for her preliminary exam. "Let's get you back, dear. You look as though one more round in the rink will knock your lights out for awhile. How long have you been feeling sick?" She motioned for Mac to step onto the scale, keeping a hand on her upper arm to steady her, while using her other hand to move the poise weights along the length of the bars.

Mac turned into her elbow to cough before answering. "Since Monday. I've been taking over the counter medications, but obviously," she gestured to herself, "it's not working".

The nurse peered over her glasses to confirm her weight, then wrote it down on the chart on her clipboard. "For the majority of people, OTC meds work, but when they don't, that's what we're here for". She provided Mac a steady hand as she stepped off the scale and led her to an exam room a few paces down the hall. "I'm going to get your blood pressure and check you out, then the doctor will be in to see you". She shut the door behind them and patted the paper-wrapped exam bed. "Have a seat, dear"

Mac did as instructed, idly swinging her legs as the nurse grabbed the blood pressure machine and a stool to sit on.

"Any major plans for the holiday? Going anywhere exotic?" She grinned as she wrapped the cuff around Mac's upper arm, positioning her arm across her chest and instructing her to unhook her feet at the ankles. "Dr. Fischer here, he's going to Hawaii. I told him to pack me in his suitcase and take me with him!"

Mac laughed despite the heaviness in her chest from both her cold and the grim reality of what the approaching holidays held in store for her. "I don't blame you. The beach sounds good right about now. I like winter, but not the rainy days that come with it".

"I heard that. My kids love the snow, but they sure hate having to shovel the sidewalk". The monitor beeped thrice, and the nurse recorded the numbers in her medical chart. "104 over 75. A little low, but I suspect you are a bit dehydrated".

Mac held her arm still so she could remove the cuff. "Yeah, I've not been eating or drinking a lot. Just no appetite".

The nurse nodded as she pressed the stethoscope against her chest. "Take a deep breath for me if you can".

Mac did her best, but her efforts brought on a fresh round of coughing, and the sharp pain in her chest was a sharp reminder that it was still present. "It hurts to breath deep, and coughing is nearly unbearable. I've never had a cold like this before".

The nurse raised her eyebrow as she moved the stethoscope to her back. "Have you had any lingering back or shoulder pain?"

The question ticked in the back of Mac's mind. Now that the question had been poised, her back and shoulders had been bothering her quite a bit. But of course, she'd contributed this to the effort it took to turn and position Matthew, and helping him to the toilet when he could give her enough warning that he needed to go. "Yes, but I didn't think anything about it".

At the nurse's quizzical look, she elaborated. "I'm my uncle's caregiver. He has terminal cancer. Hospice comes out every day, but they don't provide 24/7 care, so it's just me". She shrugged. "I just assumed my shoulders and back were sore from turning and repositioning him".

"Oh honey, you are dealing with a lot". The nurse tucked her stethoscope back in her scrub pocket and retrieved her otoscope and flashed the light into the back of Mac's ear canal. She drew a sharp whistle. "You're so full of fluid behind your ear drum that I can barely see it". She evaluated her other ear, which was almost in the same shape. "No wonder you nearly fell over when you stood up. All this fluid is throwing your balance off". She concluded the exam and made several notations in her chart. "Looks like you're dealing with a trio of body invaders"

At Mac's raised eyebrow, the nurse further explained. "Of course, Dr. Fischer will give you the official diagnosis, but based on what I can see and hear, I'd place a safe bet you not only have a sinus infection, but you also have an ear infection, and pleurisy. That's enough to knock a grown man to his knees".

"Pleurisy?" Mac asked, perplexed. "That sounds like some disease from the 1800's".

The nurse chuckled. "No need to worry. All of this is treatable with a solid round of antibiotics, and we'll get you a steroid and B-12 shot to help knock the rest of that out". She reached over to deposit the soiled ear tips in the biohazard waste can. "Your lungs are surrounded by a thin membrane called the pleura. Whenever the pleura gets infected, either from a virus, bacteria, or in some cases, a fungus, the membrane can swell and take on fluid". She pointed at her chest, "That sharp pain you feel in your chest when you try to breath deep, or when you cough, is caused by the pleura becoming inflamed". The nurse signed off on her notations, then stood to leave. "Dr Fisher will be in momentarily to see you. Please take care of yourself, and if you have anyone that you can call to help you with your uncle, I urge you to reach out. You don't need to be overdoing it". She gave Mac a genuine smile, patting her on the knee. "I wish you a peaceful holiday".

Mac nodded. "Thank you, and thanks for taking care of me today".

The nurse grinned once more, stated "my pleasure", and then exited, leaving Mac alone with her thoughts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0940 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

After no less than half a dozen wet wipes, Harm had cleaned up Matthew as best he could, all while regaling him with his antics at the Academy to disperse Matthew's embarrassment. Satisfied with his efforts, he disappeared into Mac's bedroom to change clothes. He stripped off his shirt and switched out his sweat pants for a pair of nylon athletic shorts he'd spied in her dresser drawer earlier that morning. He'd accidentally left the pair of shorts behind a few months prior when his dryer had gone on the fritz and he'd had to do laundry at Mac's. Once again, he was made aware of how the smallest of things could oftentimes prove to be the greatest, and he thanked the universe for the fortuitous oversight. Turning on the showerhead, he cleared off the built-in seat, unable to keep from shaking his head at the plethora of hair and body care products.

_'Women! How many bottles of body wash does one person need!?'_

Satisfied with the water temperature, Harm ventured back into the living room to retrieve Matthew.

"Now Harm, I don't want you messing up your back. If you'll bring my wheelchair over, I'll see if I can scoot into it".

Harm fixed him with a look.

"Hospice just weighed me three days ago," Matthew explained, "and I was at 120. Too much for you to lift".

Harm ran a hand over his chin in thought. 120 pounds. The same as Mac. Which mean she'd been lifting her own weight for several weeks.

Nope. No more lifting for her.

Shaking his head, he wordlessly scooped the elder Colonel up in his arms, despite his protests, and made his way to the bathroom. "I lift more than this at the gym. You weigh the same as Mac." He turned sideways, careful not to bump Matthew's head against the door. "And besides, your chair wouldn't fit thru the doorways".

"Dangerous territory comparing our weight, especially if you want to avoid invoking the wrath of one upset female, and a Marine at that". He gave Harm a curious look. "How did you manage to get that information without losing life or limb?"

Harm grinned as he lowered him onto the shower seat. "I have a spook to thank for that".

Matthew's eyebrow rose in question.

"Special Agent Clayton Webb. He's gotten Mac and I into as much trouble as he's gotten us out of."

"Oh." Matthew well remembered the man in the three-piece suit. It was hard to forget a man such as Clayton Webb, especially after learning he intentionally exploited his niece's soft heart to snuff him out of hiding after stealing the Declaration of Independence. "If I'm not mistaken, this is the same Webb who organized a witch hunt after me, correct?"

He motioned for Matthew to hand him the shower-head so he could soak his head. "Yes sir, that would be the one".

Matthew was silent for a moment. "I'm assuming, for a man in a position such as his, it's in his nature to profile the people he's dealing with".

"That would be correct…except what separates Webb from the other agents is his notorious absence of tact". He handed the showerhead back to Matthew and removed the bottle of shampoo from the rack over the door. He saw Matthew's eyebrows raise once more in confusion, so he elaborated. "He read out her measurements in front of the Admiral and me".

"Oh hoh!" Matthew guffawed, "That's a bad idea if I ever heard one!"

Harm chuckled. "Tell me about it. What's worse is that he added ten pounds to her weight. I wish you could have seen the look on her face. She was about ready to murder him". He gently rubbed the shampoo into his scalp, careful to keep the product from running into his ears. "Although….I can't help but wonder, even after all these years, who was telling the truth. Mac or Webb?"

"If you value your next breath as much as I'd like to think you do, you're better off to seat that question and forget you ever had it". Matthew laughed, then handed the washcloth to Harm so he could wash his neck and shoulders.

"Speaking of seats, you should have seen the thousand froo-froo products she had sitting in here," Harm grumbled, "I didn't think it was possible for a woman to have the entire CVS ® pharmacy in a four-by-eight-foot space". He traded the washcloth for the showerhead. "Alright, lean forward just a bit for me so I can get the rinse the back of your neck".

The hot water was soothing to Matthew's aching muscles, his joints having stiffened significantly from being bed-bound the past few weeks. The pan-baths, while they got the job done, certainly paled in comparison to a real bath with actual running water. "I can't tell you how good it feels to have you home, Harm," he shared, tilting his head back slightly so Harm could rinse a patch of soap from behind his ears. "I know you were busy helping them move, but I do hope you were able to enjoy the time with your folks".

"It's good to be back, Matt. I'm glad I was able to help my mom and Frank, but there's just no place like home". A frown covered his face as he recalled the night he'd found out Mac was without heat, and it was only after his incessant needling that she even told him. While the rational part of his mind made it clear Frank's injury was unexpected, he couldn't help but feel he'd had no business being away from her, especially in a time when she needed him most.

Matthew seemed to sense the immediate change in his mood. He took turns holding the showerhead, then the washcloth and soap while Harm busied himself with administering his bath. "Seems like you've got something on your mind. Care to talk about it?"

He motioned for Matthew to turn sideways so he could wash his backside, remaining quiet while he corralled his thoughts. The offer he was about to place on the table was a bold one, and he had to tread carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was give the Colonel the wrong impression. Trading the soapy washcloth for the showerhead, he allowed Matthew to wash his privates while he rinsed his back. He was going to do whatever he could to help the man keep his dignity.

After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke.

"You…um, you know the Admiral put her on compassionate leave, right?"

Matthew nodded. "Yeah. She told me. Reluctantly, I might add. I'm honestly surprised AJ didn't do it sooner. But when you're dealing with Sarah, the only way for her to see the reality of a situation is to let her wear herself down. Much like her alcoholism, she has to hit rock bottom before she truly gets it". He sighed heavily, shifting on the bench. "I knew she was doing too much, but when I tried to talk to her about it, she'd close up on me". He paused, but when he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I don't know which is worse: the fact I'm hurting her, or that I'm a burden to her".

Harm made quick work of washing his backside, then his lower legs, giving a final sweep of the showerhead over Matthew's thin frame before shutting the water off. He removed the two towels from the bar on the outside of the door, draping one around his shoulders and the other over his waist to cover his privates. "Mac would never consider you that, Matt. Ever. And I sure as hell don't. I consider it an honor that you let me help".

"Having you here has been a…" his voice broke, and he bit back the tears, "godsend. Harm, you know my time is nearly up. She's going to need more help," he paused, fighting to keep control of his voice, "in my final days".

Harm quickly toweled Matthew dry, trading the towel covering his waist for a clean brief in one smooth motion. In this manner, his exposure was limited and his dignity preserved as much as possible. A pair of gym shorts followed suite and he tied the drawstring into a smart bow. The elder Colonel had lost so much weight that his hip bones protruded against the sallow skin, and the size medium briefs and shorts were almost too big, even with the drawstring tied as tightly as possible. Harm choked down the lump that had unexpectedly jumped in his throat.

Matthew was right. It wasn't going to be much longer.

He grabbed the green t-shirt he'd pulled out of the clean laundry, one with a Marine Corps logo on it, and guided Matthew's arms through the sleeves. "That's what I wanted to discuss". He slid the shower doors aside to toss the damp towels in the nearby laundry basket. "I know Mac will probably balk at the idea, but...what are your thoughts on me moving in to help? It lets me take some of the load from her shoulders, and it gives you some dignity". Harm gestured between the two of them, referencing their shared gender.

Errant drops of water smattered quietly against the shower floor as Matthew gave considerable thought to Harm's offer. As a man, it was not in his nature to accept help. As a former Marine, it unsettled him to be a burden to anyone, especially to a man who should be focusing his time and efforts on his beloved niece instead of someone the likes of him: a washed-up Marine with a dishonorable discharge, a non-violent criminal past, and nothing to give in return. But although a man of pride, he was also a rational one, and with the knowledge of the task Harm had just had to complete for him, came the realization it was time he put his pride aside and accept help. There just was no other way. And, he felt strongly, there were some tasks his niece did not need to take on.

His silence caused Harm to mistake it for concern over where he would sleep. The apartment was small; one bedroom, with an even smaller living room. The only option for sleeping arrangements was the couch, and it certainly wasn't accommodating of his long frame. But he would quietly deal with the discomfort if it meant Mac got the rest she desperately needed. And the last thing he wanted to do was give her uncle a sense of impropriety.

He cleared his throat and hastily amended the offer. "I mean, I'd sleep on the couch and all. And um, there wouldn't be anything…uh….going on".

A look of mild amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You and my Sarah sharing the same bed is the least of my concerns. Besides", he pointed out the naval lawyer's long frame, "one more night of you sleeping on that terrible piece of furniture she has the audacity to call a couch, and it will make you lose more inches off your back than those punch-outs ever did".

Well, that point certainly couldn't be argued. The few occasions he'd slept on it had resulted in a not-so-gentle reminder of the Colonel's sentiments, and he said as much.

"Let's get you back in the living room. I'll set you on the couch so I can put clean linens on your bed". As though it were a task he'd been doing all of his life instead of just that morning, Harm bent down and effortlessly picked Matthew up once more and returned to the living room.

A moment of silence descended between them as Matthew watched Harm make quick work of changing his bedding.

"I suspect, there is something else you'd like to ask me, but you're not quite ready, are you?"

Harm nodded, but remained quiet as he snapped the fitted shit in place, and Matthew couldn't help but shake his head at the lawyer's stubbornness. "Harm, you have my blessing. The only thing I ask is that you marry that woman before you two start a family. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe it's only proper to be married and living under the same roof when you bring a baby into this world. It's not right, nor fair, to raise a child in separate households".

He deftly pulled the fitted sheet and comforter up, then folded them back and plumped his pillow, then smoothly transferred him to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "Marrying Sarah and starting a family has been the only thing I've ever wanted more than my wings. But right now's just not a good time…"

Matthew laid a hand on Harm's knee. "Don't let my illness get in the way, Harm. No more excuses. Life seldom gives second chances". He evaluated the younger man with a sense of curiosity. "Consider your offer taken. Sarah and I need your help, despite what she may say".

Fighting the urge to sigh outwardly with relief, Harm shook the Colonel's hand as a formality. "Alright, then, that's settled. Hospice should be here shortly. While they are here, I'm going to stop by my apartment and grab some clothes".

Matthew yawned as he settled beneath the covers, the bath and having to sit up for over an hour having sapped most of his energy. "If I could give you one piece of unsolicited advice, Harm?"

"Unsolicited advice is like Russian Roulette, but," Harm spoke as he came to his feet, "I welcome whatever you can give me".

"Don't bother trying to stake any type of claim to space in that bathroom. That is prime real-estate and women get first dibs". Matthew grinned, adjusting his nasal cannula. " Scratch that. They get all dibs".

Harm laughed, grateful for the reprieve in heavy topics. "You can say that again!"

"Go run your errands," he waved him off, "I won't wilt, I promise".

Harm nodded and made for the bedroom to change clothes. Matthew called after him, stopping him in his tracks.

"I thank you so very much. For everything," he gestured at his lap, "especially for helping me keep what little dignity I have left. You are the most honorable man I know".

Harm was quiet for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his throat for the second time that morning. "It's an honor to be here for you, Matthew. Truly an honor. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else".

And both men meant what they'd said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER EIGHTEEN::


	20. Chapter 19

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Nineteen

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1230

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

A little while later, Mac returned home with a plethora of medications, a sore hip from antibiotic and steroid shots, and an inhaler. Depositing her bag of "goodies" on the table, a curious expression crossed her face when she noticed Harm's uniforms thrown over the back of the lounge chair, and a laundry basket full of his clothes sitting on the floor beside it. "Did you tear up your washer again, flyboy?"

"On the contrary, it runs like a top," Harm countered, playfully throwing a pair of mated socks at her before returning his attention to the dwindling pile of unfolded laundry in front of him. "And if I recall correctly, I have you to thank for that".

A prideful blush crept across her face at his admission. Earlier in the year, Harm's washer had gone on the fritz. Despite two repairmen telling him it couldn't be fixed, meaning he was out money for a new one, Mac had insisted on looking at it. Within a few minutes, she diagnosed the issue and rendered a more palatable verdict. A $50 part, two hours, and a lot of elbow grease later, his washer was successfully repaired.

"Don't thank me, Harm". Mac jerked her head towards where her uncle lay asleep. "Thank him. He's the one who taught me to do a lot of repairs myself. He never wanted me to be taken advantage of just because I'm a woman". She propped her good hip against the arm of the couch to alleviate the weight from her sore side. "So…care to tell me why all your junk is piled on my couch?" She emphasized the last few words with a teasing grin.

"Well…given Matthew's medical situation, and the fact that you are burning the candle at both ends, I decided to move in to help with his care". Knowing she would protest, he immediately came to her side, taking her hands in his. "Mac, he and I already talked this over, and he's completely onboard with it. You have got to have help. I know hospice is coming twice a day, but that's not enough. You have no business lifting and turning him by yourself." She opened her mouth to deny this, but one look from Harm and she knew it would be a futile effort. He'd see right past it.

She shook her head, begging for him to understand. "Harm, it's not going to be pretty…in his final days". She blinked back the tears rapidly pooling in her eyes, her voice dropping low, "it's going to get ugly, and quickly. I don't want you to feel some type of obligation. I don't want you to put your life on hold for us. We'll be fine, I promise".

He lovingly framed her face between his big hands, the cool metal of his academy ring registering against her flushed face. She instinctively reached up to cover his hands with her own. "There is no sense of obligation, Mac, whatsoever. If anything, I consider it one of my greatest honors to be able to do this. And how can you say I'm putting my life on hold when you ARE my life?"

She searched his eyes for any indication of pity. So many people had entered her life, yet disappeared when things got tough, when she needed more than what she could give. Would he be any different? Would he regret his offer when the nights turned stormy and the darkness grew longer each day? Matthew was not even his own flesh and blood. And in some people's eyes, not worth the effort given his dishonorable discharge and subsequent incarceration. She had to know. He had to know what he was signing up for: the bad, the ugly, and the uglier.

"Are you sure about this, Harm?" Her voice soft and urging. "Think long and hard".

"I've given it five seconds of thought, which is five seconds too long". He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Sarah, I'm in this for the long haul. One hundred and ten percent".

She held his gaze for several long minutes, her heart and mind at war. He refused to back down, and she could see the determination blazing in his eyes. She recalled their trip to Russia in the search for his father, when he'd told her that she'd come farther with him than anyone else, and that he would never forget that. She had been more than willing to walk thru the fire with him. Had bene willing to walk thru the fire for him. The search to find out what happened to Harm, Sr, had been almost his undoing, and in a sense, Matthew's terminal illness was almost hers. With as much ferocity as she'd presented at the train station in Russia, now so was he.

Coming to resolution in her own mind, and hearing Matthew beginning to stir in the background, she gave a quiet nod of acquiescence. "Well, let's get your stuff sorted and put away, then. Us Marines like our barracks squared and tight". She sniffled and turned to plant a kiss into his palm. "And I've got a load of horse pills to take".

He felt her forehead, relieved to see she no longer had a fever. "At least your fever's gone down".

"Yeah, but now my butt is sore". She coughed, then rubbed her tender hip where the injection had been administered. "I feel like I just traded one pain for another".

"Well," he turned her around, so he could get a look at her denim covered bottom, "I happen to think it's an awfully cute one".

She blushed furiously, thankful, for once, that her lingering cough disguised her lack of a comeback.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0900 MT

Thanksgiving Day

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

The morning had started off rather well for a change; Matthew had been able to rest some during the night, and for once, he was more awake and alert than usual. She was grateful for these moments, albeit short. He was getting weaker by the day, his stamina all but gone, and his periods of wakefulness were becoming more sporadic. As part of their morning routine, Mac was snuggled against his side, her head resting against his shoulder, arm draped over his torso to grasp his bony fingers in her hand. This morning, Thanksgiving morning, as a matter of fact, they were watching the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, and they occasionally commented on the passing floats, dancers, singers.

Just as she made to comment on the latest performance by a high school marching band, her doorbell rang. A curious expression crossed Mac's face just as Harm emerged from the kitchen where he'd been putting away dishtowels. He waved away her motion to vacate the bed to answer the door.

"Keep your seat, Mac, I've got it".

He checked the peephole, then unlatched the door, unable to mask the surprise that overtook his face.

Their JAG family stood on the other side, each one carrying a casserole dish or plate.

"Guys, looks we've got company!" he called over his shoulder at the two, stepping aside so they could see who their visitors were.

Little AJ clambered down from Bud's arms and wrapped himself around his godfather's legs.

"Hi ya Unca 'arm!," he squealed, giggling when Harm picked up and gave him a slight toss in the air.

"Hey there little man! I sure didn't expect to see you today!"

AJ wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, squeezing it with as much ferocity as a three-year old could manage. "Mommy said we're cewebwatin Danksgivin wif you n Aun' Mac!"

Harm returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. "Well, I certainly like the sound of that!" He set AJ on his feet, giving an affectionate pat on his bottom as he turned his godson in Mac's direction. "Why don't you go see Aunt Mac? I know she'd love one of your big hugs".

AJ nodded and promptly ran over to Mac, who immediately opened her arms and hauled the preschooler up in her lap. "Hi ya Aun' Mac! I made sumfin for you!" He thrust the clumsily drawn picture into her chest.

"Ohhh, you drew me a picture!?" Mac asked, smoothing out the creases in the slightly crumpled crayon drawing. "I love it when you draw me pictures!"

AJ pointed at the figures in the drawing. "Dat girl wif da dress and meduls is you, and dat big tall guy holdin' da airpwane is Unca 'arm!"

"How pretty!" Mac gushed, tugging AJ closer to her chest and kissing his cheek. "And who's this little boy standing between us?"

AJ giggled. "Dat's me, siwwy! We're at da pawk. See da swings and da swide?"

Mac followed his finger as he pointed on the paper, smiling as he explained each object in the grubby drawing. "The park is one of my favorite places. Uncle Harm and I will have to take you there again soon. Would you like that?"

AJ nodded vigorously. "I wud wove dat, Aun Mac! Will you go down de swide wif me?"

"Of course. But only if you're in the front. I'm too scared to go first". She looked over the top of her godson's head and winked at Harriet.

It was then that AJ noticed Matthew for the first time. He looked at him with a curious expression, then at Mac for explanation as to the identity of the stranger.

"AJ, this is my Uncle Matthew. Matthew, this is my godson, AJ Roberts".

"Very pleased to meet you, young man". Matthew held out his hand, his large one swallowing AJ's. "Boy what a strong grip you have there!" He grinned at Mac. "You may just beat me at arm wrestling".

AJ 'flexed' his muscles, ever the typical precocious three-year old. "I eat spinush wike Popeye! Daddy says I have big muswuls". He pointed towards the bed they were in, regarding Matthew with a sense of innocent, yet solemn curiosity. "Why you in a hospitwul bed? Is you sick?

"AJ!" Harriet admonished, rushing over to collect her curious offspring.

Matthew grinned. "It's quite alright, Harriet". He returned his attention to the little boy who continued to stare with rapt attention. "Yes, I am sick. But Sarah and Harm are taking good care of me".

A confused expression covered his little face. "Who's Sawah?"

Mac laughed softly. "That's me, baby. My real name is Sarah. But everyone calls me 'Mac'".

"But why? You don't wike your name?" he asked, still confused. He didn't know anyone that didn't go by their real name!

"I do, baby. 'Mac' is just a nickname. Just like Uncle Harm and I call you 'little man'."

"Oh". AJ seemed satisfied with her simple answer, then turned his attention back to Matthew. "I give you a kiss. I make your owie go away, otay?". He leaned up to give a kiss on Matthew's cheek, then clumsily patted it. "Betta?"

Matthew reached out to ruffle the little boy's hair, his aged eyes misting over. "I feel better already, young man. Thank you!".

AJ beamed, looking up at his mother for approval. "See momma? I made him betta, just wike I made you betta!"

"You did, and that is very sweet of you". Harriet reached for her son's hand, "Now, let's leave Colonel O'Hara alone so he can rest. You can come and help me in the kitchen".

"Ohhhh, do you have to take him? I'm quite enjoying his company". Matthew pointed towards the tv where the parade continued to air. "And he's just in time to watch the parade. Would that be okay?"

AJ looked eagerly at Harriet for permission.

"So long as he's not bothering you…" she hesitated. While her son was certainly a well-behaved child and knew his manners, he was a typical three-year old and could become rambunctious at times. She didn't want him wearing out his welcome at Matthew's bedside.

"No need to worry Harriet, he'll be just fine. We'll talk about which floats are our favorite, right AJ?'

AJ nodded, snuggling between Mac and Matthew. He clapped his hands in delight when a 'Sesame Street' float stopped in the procession. "Oooo, Wook! It's Big Bird! An' Cookie Monsta! He's my favwit!"

Matthew flashed a reassuring grin at Harriet, and, satisfied for the moment that her son was behaving himself, she retreated to the kitchen where the others had already begun to uncover the multitude of hot dishes.

"Whose idea was this?" Harm whispered to Harriet as the two made quick work of plating up the food.

"The Admiral's, believe it or not", she jerked her head in the direction of AJ, who stood just beyond the kitchen doorway, conversing with Jennifer. "He called us in his office yesterday morning and asked how quickly we could put together a Thanksgiving dinner fit for a king". She smiled, handing him a stack of plates. "I must admit, it certainly put my cooking and time management skills to the test".

"Harriet, if anyone can pull a rabbit out of a hat, it's you". Harm shook his head in amazement. How she managed to pull it off with a young child at home and her full-time duties at JAG was beyond his comprehension.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir". Harriet pulled the tinfoil of the last dish and set it to the side. "Let me see if we've got enough room at the table for everyone."

Harm stopped her with a hand on her arm. "We're out of uniform, so no sirring or 'ma'aming' here. And I'd like for all of us to eat in the living room. Matthew is just too weak to sit at the table. Not to mention, that table is awful to sit at. I swear, I'm giving it a Viking funeral when we get our own place.

The last comment did not escape Harriet's careful ear. "Your own place, hmmm?"

Harm realized what he'd said too late, and a blush crept across his face. "Nothing gets by your watchful eyes or ears, does it, Harriet?"

She grinned. "It's called being a wife and a parent. It comes with a variety of accessories: fatigue, shot nerves, eyes in the back of your head, oh, and did I mention exceptional hearing?" She playfully nudged his hip as he reached over to grab a slatted spatula from the cutlery drawer. "You and the Colonel should give it a try sometime".

Harm merely shook his head at his junior officer's reply. Leave it to Harriet to call people on the floor!

"Hey guys, how about we all pull up a chair and sit by Colonel O'Hara. I just don't think we'll have enough room at the table." Although Harriet gestured towards the table, her keen eyes indicated the size of the table had nothing do with them not eating at it.

Each glanced at one another, then a silent understanding passed over them. They made their way towards Matthew's bed, bringing a chair or stool with them.

"What's all this?" Matthew's brow furrowed in confusion as everyone gathered to sit around him.

"Not enough room for all of us, so, Harriet does what she does best: thinking outside the box while telling others what to do," Bud smirked, laughing as Harriet gave him a look of mock irritation.

"Sir, you know as well as I do, in order to run an effective office, there are those, who," she looked pointedly at her husband, "have to be told what to do. But of course, I won't name any names".

The entire crew chuckled at the couple's good-natured humor, and then the dishes began to make their rounds and food began piling up on plates. Even though her uncle's appetite was almost non-existent, Mac ensured he was given first-choice of each dish, and Harm assisted him in picking out what (few) foods he wanted to try.

Once everyone was satisfied with their selections, AJ bade everyone settle in their seats. "I'd like to ask, respectfully, if Colonel O'Hara would be so kind as to provide us with the blessing".

"It would be an honor, AJ," Matthew agreed. He then looked at each person clustered around his bed. From what he could gather based on conversations he'd shared with his niece, each one bore their own burdens. Their own hardships. Their own heartache. Some had families. Others did not. And yet, here they were, eager to share their life, their love, their time, with him. He was a blessed man, indeed.

"I will make this short and sweet, because we have quite the spread here, and I know that we have a little stomach that is waiting to be fed," he grinned at little AJ, "but I hope you all know how special this is to me. How much it means to the three of us that you would choose to spend your holiday with me. My Sarah has the finest surrogate family I could have ever dreamed or wished for her". He reached over to squeeze Mac's hand. "And I don't know how we would have made it this far without all of you supporting us every step of the way. We have so very much to be thankful for".

"We sure do, Uncle Matt. Let's make this the best Thanksgiving we've ever had," Mac added, lifting her glass up to toast.

"It already is, Sarah, it already is". Matthew pointed out.

Glasses clinked together, a smattering of "agreed!" and "Oo rah!" rumbled through the small gathering, and slowly, the food on the plates began to disappear.

A hum of contentment settled over the group as each became absorbed in various conversations and giving compliments to the preparers of certain dishes. And it was then, that Matthew took a figurative step back to evaluate his family. Yes. His family.

He watched AJ's eyes wander over his staff, evaluating them as though they were products of his entire life's work, an air of fatherly pride emanating deep from within his steadfast gaze. He watched as Tiner animatedly regaled Gunny with stories from his latest fishing expenditure, to which Gunny felt the younger officer deserved a toast of accomplishment. He watched as Jennifer Coats smiled with joy to be considered part of a family, probably for the first time in years. He watched as Sturgis looked at Harm and Mac with satisfaction, then turned to regard his date for the evening, Ms Bobbi Latham, with a sense of contentment. He watched with a pang of nostalgia, as Bud cut up little AJ'S food while reminding him of his manners, and Harriet beamed at her little family with pride. He felt the rush of excitement when Harriet and Bud announced they were expecting again, felt his heart squeeze when they shared the baby was a girl. He watched his niece's eyes tear up with genuine joy at her friends' second chance to complete their family, watched as she enveloped the mother-to-be in a warm embrace, watched as she looked at Harm with eyes full of longing, of love, of hope. It wasn't so hard to see that in her eyes, were the hopes and dreams of being a future wife, a future mother, a future lover.

Dishes were traded. Stories were shared. Cups refilled. Jokes made. Laughter heard.

Matthew had little physical appetite, yet he felt his heart filling to the brim with love at the family surrounding him. Found his soul filling with peace. Felt his spirit filling with joy at the smile that adorned his niece's face; for a moment, there were no clouds in her eyes, no lines in her forehead. It had been so long since he'd seen her genuinely happy.

He watched the way Harm would unconsciously touch her shoulder, her arm, her back, whenever she spoke. Watched as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her following the news that they were going to be godparents once more.

He didn't miss the look of wistfulness that enveloped Harm's face when Mac placed her hand on Harriet's growing belly, noticeable now that she had removed her overcoat. He didn't miss the look in his eyes when Mac glanced back at him with pure joy on her face when she felt the movement of new life beneath the layers of skin and clothing. It was so obvious as to what he was feeling…thinking…imaging.

He watched as Mac held Harm's hand under the table, watched as she leaned in to hear every word he spoke. His eyes travelled to meet AJ's, where a look of smug satisfaction settled within them. He watched all of this thru the eyes of a man content with his life coming to an end, a resolution of his unsettled past, and the happiness that he could watch over all of these people, this impromptu, motley crew of a family with broken dreams, promises, and so much hope for the future. And as contentment settled in his heart, so did his longing to go…..

Home.

Yes….it would not be long now. And he was ready.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(LATER THAT AFTERNOON)

Shortly after the dishes were put in the dishwasher, the remnants of food stored in the fridge, and the garbage bagged for disposal, the JAG crew called it a day and headed for the door. AJ and the Roberts' were the last to leave. Harriet, holding the now-empty casserole totes, put an index finger to her lips and motioned for her husband to look at the hospital bed.

Their son was fast asleep, curled between his godmother and Matthew, a storybook about dinosaurs resting on the elder Colonel's chest.

Harm waved off Bud's movement towards the bed, carefully extricating the sleeping boy from beneath Matthew's arm. He gave AJ's golden blonde head a loving ruffle as Bud laid him over his shoulder. He spoke quietly he walked them towards the door. "I don't know how to adequately thank you all for everything".

"Oh Harm, you guys are family to us". Harriet grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze of affection before bringing him in for a hug. "We wanted to make her last Thanksgiving with him as special as we could".

"You certainly succeeded," Harm assured her. "Mac and I may not have a lot of money, but we are rich when it comes to our friends and family. We couldn't ask for more".

Dropping a quick kiss on his cheek, Harriet whispered into his ear, "Remember what I said, Harm. Marriage and parenting is the greatest journey I've ever been on". She let him go at this, and Harm laid a gentle hand on her belly, the fluttering of kicks and flips felt beneath his sensitive fingers.

"This little lady is already blessed beyond measure. To have you as parents," he nodded towards Bud, "and AJ as a big brother".

"And you, and Sarah as godparents," she added, smiling at the Admiral, "and AJ as his grandfather. She is blessed, for sure".

Bud reached out to shake Harm's hand. "Tell the Colonel we appreciate him being so kind to our son. He just adored him".

"It made his day, I promise," Harm returned the handshake, "Be careful driving home".

The Roberts stepped out into the hallway, waving over their shoulder as they made their way to the elevator.

AJ clapped a hand on Harm's shoulder. "Enjoyed the evening, son. Give me a call tomorrow. I need to discuss reducing your hours for the time being". His eyes flicked towards where Mac remained asleep, and he fixed Harm with a look that meant business. "She's your priority right now. I don't think I need to make that an order". And, with absence of another word, he exited her apartment, leaving Harm alone with his thoughts.

He shut the door behind AJ and turned to look at Mac. She stirred in bed, snuggling closer to Matthew, but did not awaken.

Over the years, he'd had a multitude of priorities, each one sliding in and out of his life like the metal gears of a lock: his career as a student at the Naval Academy, his career as a pilot and then a lawyer, the search for his father, finding his half-brother…..

But now? Times had changed. Life had changed; changed him, changed them, changed his priorities.

The Admiral had told him to make her his priority.

But he already had.

No order needed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER NINETEEN::


	21. Chapter 20

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Twenty-One

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1500

Saturday Following Thanksgiving

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

After a filling lunch of homemade taco soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, the two set out to make quick work of the household chores, with Harm taking care of meal cleanup and Mac tending to the laundry. The stack of freshly laundered towels threatened to topple over as she tucked them on the shelf of the linen closet by the spare bathroom. The final load of laundry, thank goodness, was still tumbling in the dryer. It seemed the more she washed, the bigger the pile grew behind her. Using her hip, she nudged the linen closet door shut, then headed for the living room. As she passed the kitchen doorway, she paused, mesmerized by Harm's movements. With a towel thrown casually over his shoulder, he was busy loading the dishwasher, and his muscles moved fluidly with the efforts. It baffled her how he could make even the most mundane of work appear so attractive. Sexy.

As she watched him pour detergent into the dispenser, a strange sense of contentment settled over her.

He belonged there. In her apartment.

Was this what marriage felt like?

Marriage…

_'Well, that's what you want, isn't it, Mackenzie?'_

Of course.

It was the only thing she had ever really wanted out of life, aside from her career. What was it she had said women wanted to Harm all those years ago? A woman wanted three things in life: a good man, a good career, and shoes. Lots of comfortable shoes. A good career took some work to build, but it was within reach. The shoes were simple to procure, provided one could find the right shoe store. But finding the man? Not so easy.

With a sigh, an uncomfortable realization settled in her mind: she was growing entirely too reliant on Harm, becoming too accustomed to the routine they'd developed over the course of the past few weeks. For someone who prided herself on being independent and smart in most areas of her life, she was concerned she might have made a monumental mistake in agreeing to Harm moving in for the sake of Matthew's care. It was one thing to allow the man to help her in that regard. It was quite another to let him sneak into her heart while she wasn't paying attention.

And….he'd done exactly that; so effortlessly, without word or warning. He was a most selfless man, and she knew he would do whatever he could to ensure Matthew's needs were met.

Her cheeks warmed at the comment he'd made about little AJ. Harriet and Bud, she felt, were the epitome of what she wanted most in life: A home bursting at the seams with love, loyalty, and devotion. Two people who loved each other, who'd lived any parent's worst fear. And whereas most marriages fall apart after the loss of a child, the Roberts' proved that they weren't just another statistic. If anything, the unexpected death of their daughter forged a stronger bond between the two, and their devotion to keeping their little family together only grew fiercer.

Mac shook her head to clear her thoughts and deposited the laundry basket at the end of the couch. "Uncle Matt, is there anything you need while I'm out? I'll be gone awhile".

Matthew set aside the magazine he'd been reading and looked over at his niece. It was time. "No, not that I can think of. But before you go….we need to talk". He nodded in Harm's direction, and Mac noted, with a stab of unpleasant apprehension, the hesitant way in which Harm eased himself into the chair beside her. He avoided her gaze, which only served to heighten her concern.

Harm handed him the leather portfolio containing his financial paperwork and living will.

"When you were born, I bought several savings bonds, and I opened up a savings account in which I put money in every year. It was my intention to give it to you for a down payment on a house, or your wedding, whichever happened to come first. I'm not sure if there is anything left. I don't even know if the bonds are worth anything at this point. The state of Kansas may have taken everything after my conviction. But all the information I have is here in this portfolio". He gestured towards the papers tucked neatly in the left pocket of the leather binder. "As far as my body is concerned, I want to donate myself to science, and then be cremated. Toss some of my ashes at Red Rock and use the rest to plant a tree. Don't shove me in the ground. I want to be of some good to this world".

Mac was quiet for a moment while she read over his will, the unpleasant reality of his impending death viciously wrapping itself around her heart. "Okay, Uncle Matt. If that's what you want, I'll make sure it happens".

He grasped her hand and squeezed it. "Good, that's settled, then".

_'Now for the hard part….'_

He glanced at Harm, who shifted uneasily in his chair. "Now that I have your word you will carry out my wishes, we need to discuss what I want done in the hours leading up to my death".

Dread lodged thick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, but she nodded at him to continue.

"As hospice explained, I will most likely lose consciousness as I transition into the active dying stage. When that occurs, I've instructed Harm to call AJ. AJ will come over to see to me, and the two of you," he gestured at them, "are to not return to the apartment until I have passed, and the mortuary has picked me up".

As if in slow motion, all the color drained from Mac's face. She pressed a hand to her chest as if she'd been sucker-punched.

"Y-you wa- you want me to do…..what?" She shook her head in disbelief. Surely….surely she'd heard…wrong?

"I do not want you here when I am actively dying," Matthew reiterated.

His words were a punch in the gut, and the icy fingers of comprehension grabbed on tightly and yanked her down. She sucked in a breath. "Uncle Matt….h-how could you even make a request like that!?"

"Because it's what I want, Sarah". Matthew replied matter-of-factly.

"No, Uncle Matt, I don't think so!"

"You promised, Sarah!" he firmly interjected, then immediately softened his tone. "You promised. You promised you would abide by my wishes. I've told you want I want. And I know you will be honorable and stand by your word".

Her mouth tightened and she swiped angrily at the tears coursing down her cheeks. How could he make such a request? How could her uncle, the one man she loved as much as Harm, send her away in a time he needed her most?

_'Or is it you that needs him the most?'_

She pushed away the obtrusive thought, as painfully accurate as it was, and clamored to her feet. She was furious! Furious with Matthew for making such a request. Furious with Harm for going behind her back. Furious with life for taking away the one person who'd wanted her and loved her when own her mother didn't.

"I appreciate you taking care of me these last few months, Sarah, but as far as I'm concerned, this is where your commitment ends.

Disbelief washed over her in torrent waves, and she visibly shook from the feelings. When she'd finally managed to find her voice again, it took everything in her to keep it steady. "So that's it, huh? Just like that? No consideration at all as to my thoughts or feelings." She turned to Harm, who shied beneath her unforgiving glare. "And you...you agreed to this?" she whispered in disbelief, "how…how could you?"

As much as it pained him to take a hard line against his niece, he knew it was the only way he could protect her heart. Matthew shook his head. "Don't be upset with Harm. He's only doing as I asked. He's taking care of me".

Anger began to rise above her hurt and grief. She took great pride in her ability to care for Matthew, to be strong for them both. Despite her father's name on her birth certificate, Mac considered herself an O'Hara, with all the honor and responsibility epitomized in her uncle's name. Her gaze shifted from Harm, then to Matthew. "I thought I had been doing that for the last few months. But apparently, I wasn't doing a g-good e-enough j-job". To her horror, her voice broke on the last words and once more she felt the tears pool in her field of vision. The events over the course of the past few weeks, plus the knowledge that her uncle did not want her there pressed in on her with crushing, unrelenting force.

"Sarah, that's not true, not even in the slightest. I don't want you to go thru the pain of seeing me die. You've been through more than your fair share of heart ache, don't you think?"

While he watched Mac and Matthew struggle to reach a point of mutual understanding, Harm felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. During his caretaker duties over the course of the past few weeks, he'd grown privy to Matthew's wishes and regrets. The elder Colonel was a man who's pride, and dignity, were highly valued. Harm felt it was his responsibility to preserve it, but at what cost? Losing Mac's respect was one thing, but her friendship, and the steps they'd taken towards a future together was the one thing he couldn't bear to give up. He only hoped that in time, she'd see it.

"Mac, please just listen to him. He only wants what he feels is best, and that's to keep your heart from going thru any more pain than it already has".

Her heart squeezed fiercely in her chest, as if to reinforce this fact. But there was no use in arguing. Matthew had made up his mind, and apparently, with Harm's blessing. "Well," Mac cleared her throat as she fought to maintain her composure, "seeing as how you two have discussed all of this without including me, I don't think you need me here anymore". She turned on her heel and marched towards the couch. She quickly snatched up her coat and scarf, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere that had descended upon the apartment.

"Mac, wait, don't go." He reached out for her arm, afraid for her to leave distraught, especially given the sketchy road conditions due to the weather. The last thing he wanted was her driving upset and wind up in a car accident. He worried about her. He always did.

She stepped out of his reach, and the movement tore his heart. "Please, just don't," she warned, her voice wavering, "you've done enough". Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "It's certainly clear where you thought I mattered in all of this," she gestured towards her uncle, "which was nowhere at all". Her hands shook as she hurried to button her coat and wrap her scarf. "I need to get on the road to pick up my godson or else I'll be late".

She yanked open the door and walked out, pulling it shut behind her without another word or glance behind her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For a long awhile after Mac walked out, Harm stood at the kitchen counter, staring dully into the pasty concoction he'd mixed for the purpose of capturing Matthew's handprint. Harm felt like the world's biggest ass for discussing her uncle's plans without her knowledge, much less agreeing to them, but how could he protect her and respect Matthew's wishes at the same time? His chest felt achy and tight, as though he had just run a 5k with no warm-up. He knew his efforts were completely unnecessary as Mac did an excellent job of taking care of herself, but he found, buried underneath her fierce independence, an air of delicate vulnerability. She made him want to take care of her, to tuck her close and protect her from the hardships of life—an impulse he knew was completely ridiculous, not to mention borderline chauvinistic.

He was in an impossible situation, torn between his obligations to a man for whom he'd developed immense respect, and to the woman that had captured his heart so long ago. The realization had been approaching slowly for months, but with their date just a few weeks ago, it came raging in like the storm that pulled the city to a standstill earlier in the week. He loved her. He was in love with her. She was so many things to him: his partner, his best friend, his world, his….future.

At first, he hadn't recognized this soft, yet wild tenderness, the desire to be with her in every sense of the word. He found himself searching for ways to make her smile, to erase the trauma of her past, to chase away the demons he knew hunted her relentlessly in the night.

And there was the real conundrum. He had agreed to Matthew's requests because he felt it would protect Sarah's heart. But in true Rabb fashion, he'd managed to do everything but protect her.

Sighing heavily, he gave the pie tin on the counter a gentle shake to settle the mixture. His eyes were drawn to the box the plaster kit had come in. On the front, a newborn's handprint was advertised as a Christmas ornament, the tiny impression complimented by a pale pink ribbon. His heart flip-flopped at the memory of their conversation earlier that morning. For all the hours in his life, Harm knew he could never forget the expression on her face when he'd mentioned AJ's birthday; could never forget the way her eyes went all soft and warm. There wasn't a day that went by on the calendar that he didn't cross off; not a month that melted into another that he didn't count down. The thought of their promise was what kept him going thru the hardest of days and the darkest of nights.

Returning to the living room, he set the pie tin between Matthew's legs, helping him to seal his handprint whilst taking great care to stabilize his shaky hand.

He broke the heavy silence that had descended upon them. "She's angry with me, Matthew".

The elder Colonel was quiet for a moment while the mixture pooled between his spread fingers. It would take several minutes for the handprint to set, and he hoped it would turn out well for her sake. "No, she's not. She's angry at the situation, Harm"

"Is she?" Harm tossed out with disbelief, glancing at the front door. He half-expected Mac to walk back in to argue her case once more.

"Yes. When Sarah can't control a situation or an outcome, she channels her frustration into the incorrect assumptions of her abilities, or inabilities". He paused to rub his free hand over his forehead in frustration. "That bastard, Joe, really did a number on her. And Deanna did, too. Neither of them had any business being a parent, but here we are, and Sarah has paid dearly for her raising, or lack thereof. All those doubts and insecurities you see in her, you can thank Joe and Deanna for almost every single one of them".

Harm checked his watch: two more minutes and the impression would be set. For a moment, it was silent in the apartment as he contemplated what to say. "I feel like I've betrayed her, Matthew. I'm supposed to take care of her, not hurt her".

Matthew laid a gentle hand on his arm. "No, you haven't. If anything, you've freed her from the obligations of watching someone she loves dies. And that, is the greatest form of protection you could give anyone. She'll come around, Harm. Give her time". He sighed heavily. "Just give my girl time".

But time was the one thing they didn't have to give.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1700

Oak Creek Park

Falls Church, VA

Traffic was busier than she expected as she turned the sportscar onto Riverbend Street, the long, winding path that ran the eastern perimeter of the river. On this, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Georgetown was clogged with shoppers trying to get a head-start on their holiday shopping. A group of small townhouses sat on the opposite side of the narrow channel, their reflections wobbling in the undulating water. She loved that none of the houses were the same, each one constructed from stucco and stones pulled from the very river that pooled in front of them. Some of the older buildings remained to preserve the town's historic flavor, even as newer, more modern developments popped up around them. It was nice to see the town embrace both the old and the new, without sacrificing space or aesthetics to do so.

As they passed beneath a grove of overarching oak trees, her godson's mindless chattering picked up once more as his excitement reignited upon seeing the shoreline. She managed to snag a parking place close to a cluster of benches a few feet from the water's edge. Outside, songbirds flitted from the branches of one of the big oaks, their cheerful tweets and chirps mingling with the breeze rustling the leaves. Wearily, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the door, the late afternoon sun spilling into the car's interior thru the shaded window and sunroof. They had about an hour, maybe less, before the sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving the darkness to steal away the last vestiges of warmth. She had managed to keep herself going all these months. She bit back the tears. She could make it thru this, too.

Her uncle was dying.

She knew this, of course. Had known for months. Had thought she had come to terms with it. Had thought she had her emotions fully in control. But the conversation with Matthew had left her struggling to reel them in, and the realization was numbing. She felt as if she had been encased in the same layer of thick ice that trapped the outer edges of the pond. Her life had become something she never expected. As a little girl, she wanted four things: to have a successful career, to be a wife, a mother, to love and be loved, to want, and to be wanted.

She didn't get a chance to say goodbye to her mother. Deanna had simply vanished into the night of her fifteenth birthday, without so much as a kiss goodbye, a birthday card, or a forwarding address. It had been her choice, and Sarah had had no control over it. And while her mother (the latest she knew), was alive and well, her abandonment had felt like a death. The loss had been sudden, with no warning, no explanation. She was there one day; gone the next.

Then there was Eddy, whose death she would always blame herself for. She'd not been given the chance to say goodbye. After the 'JAWS OF LIFE' had extracted her from the pile of mangled steel, she'd been whisked away to the hospital. It was only days later, after her surgery for internal injuries that she was given the devastating news. Eddy, who seemed larger than life, whose infectious laugh and witty humor could lift even the downtrodden of spirits, was dead. Gone. A life cut short on the cusp of a beautiful beginning.

To make matters worse, his family's religious beliefs did not condone embalming, and so he was buried two days later. Following her release from the hospital, Matthew had taken her straight to the mountains of Arizona to dry out. It was months before she was able to visit his grave, to grieve, and to ask for forgiveness.

Her father's death, she supposed, could be grouped in there as well. She'd arrived at Hospice of the Sacred Heart to settle the rift between them and to say her goodbyes. But life delivered a cruel blow: Joe had succumbed to a coma just two hours prior. Surprisingly, her mother had been there, but took no part in burying the man with whom she'd loved enough at one point in her life to create a child. And just as she had done twelve years prior, Deanna stole away into the dark, leaving her daughter to clean up the mess of her departure once more.

Then there was Dalton. In the wake of the abrupt end to their relationship, she'd reluctantly agreed to meet him at McMurphy's so she could say her piece and wish him well. Once again, life delivered another cruel blow, with that ill-fated meeting resulting in his death at the hands of a carjacker. And as he lay in the drenched alley, gasping for his last moments with the living, she'd forced aside the hurt, the anger, and the resentment she felt towards him. Instead, she'd choked out a promise she knew was as fake and cheap as the box store Christmas tree in her living room…all to satisfy the dying man's pathetic attempt to secure her love into the beyond.

And now…Matthew. Cancer was taking him, but he was taking away her right to be there at the very end. To her, it was the utmost form of betrayal. She'd lost so many that she'd not been given the opportunity to end it on her terms. And she was tired of it. Tired of those she loved being taken from her without so much as a goodbye.

She knew, in the center of her heart, that she was being irrational. Unrealistic, really. And she also realized that Harm was in an uncomfortable situation, having to choose between her and Matthew. She knew he was trying to be as supportive and protective, as he always was when it came to her. She just, bless it, had a hard time seeing it. A twinge of guilt pinched at the corners of her heart. As much as she ached with pain for losing all those she loved, Mac knew it was foolhardy to try to control those situations that couldn't be controlled. It was like nailing jello to a tree.

"Are you otay, Aun Mac?"

AJ's little voice broke her from her thoughts. To her horror, she realized she'd been silently crying, the tears running down her cheeks unchecked. A flush of embarrassment crossed her face and she quickly swiped away the evidence. How could she have let her mind wander so much that he saw it? Guilt pinched at her again. She would have to do a better job of hiding her emotions.

"I'm okay, little man," she lied, willing her voice to sound steady and cheerful.

"Can we go now?".

His eagerness to get out of the car was apparent, and Mac took it as her que to exit the Corvette. "Of course, little man". The wind nipped at her jean-clad legs the moment she stepped out, and she silently thanked herself for wearing thermals. Opening the passenger door, she unbuckled AJ's carseat restraints before slipping him into his winter coat and mittens. She grabbed the bag containing their supplies and led them along the cobblestone path to benches that dotted the shore.

"Will der be lots of ducks, Aunt Mac?" AJ asked, slipping his little hand into hers and gazing up at her with eyes that pinched her heart every time.

"Oh, I bet there will be plenty," Mac answered, pointing to the large colony of fowl opposite the shoreline. "Look, there's a bunch on the other side of the pond". She chose a bench a foot or two away from the water's edge and removed the fleece blanket so she could spread it across the cold metal slats. "Now, we'll sit here, and we'll throw a little bit to get their attention".

"But der way over der, Aun Mac. Dey won't see us". AJ noted, his face drawing up in distress as he craned his neck to see them.

"Just you wait and see, little man. They'll be over here in no time". Mac opened the Ziploc bag and placed a small portion of the kibble in AJ's mitted hand. "Now you stay right here. Don't move". While the city had recently renovated the park and improved the stone perimeter that hugged the edge of the river, it was slick from an accumulation of duck droppings and snow. The last thing she wanted was for AJ to slip and fall into the sub-freezing water.

The water lapped at the frozen edge, and the sound filtered in with it sweet memories from her time as a young girl. Matthew would oftentimes take her out on the weekends when he was off-duty. He'd pull up in his old '69 Toronado, and she'd flip a coin. Heads meant their destination was the mountains rising high above the rust colored dunes where he taught her how to identify dinosaur tracks. Tails sent them to the chuckling waters of the Verde River, where he taught her how to reel in rainbow trout without losing her line or lure.

Mac had started drinking shortly after her mother had abandoned her at age fifteen. By the time she was seventeen, her drinking was growing out of control, though that hadn't stopped her from graduating high school and obtaining a partial scholarship to the local college based on her near-perfect ACT score. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that had it not been for Matthew's interference, the turbulent waters of life would have dragged her under. She never blamed anyone for her poor choices, only blamed her mother for not loving her enough to secure her daughter's well-being and future.

A tug at her coat sleeve interrupted her thoughts. "Aunt Mac? Can you hurry? The ducks are gonna swim away".

Mac sighed. It was the second time in the span of fifteen minutes that she'd managed to zone out, and with AJ being so dangerously close to the frigid water, it made her mentally kick herself. She really was going to have to get a better handle on her emotions. "They haven't gone anywhere, AJ. Look", she pointed across the shoreline, where the ducks, having noticed a readily available source of food, had begun to make their way across the water. "See? They're already swimming over here".

AJ sniffled, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his coat. "But I won't get to see dem no mores".

"Here baby," she pulled a pack of Kleenex out of her purse and cleaned his nose for him, "don't do that. Use tissues." She prodded for more information. "What makes you think you won't see the ducks again?"

AJ sniffled but remembered his tissues and used them instead of his coat sleeves. "Mommy said when da new baby comes, she can't take me no mores".

Ahhhh. So that was it.

A light bulb went off in Mac's head, and pieces of the puzzle fell together for a clear picture. AJ's behavior at school had nothing to do with his unwillingness to follow directions and everything to do with his fear nobody would have time for him.

"Well, it will take your mommy awhile to get better after having the baby. How about I take you to see the ducks? Would you be okay with that until your mommy can take you again?"

"You pwomise?" AJ gave her a skeptical look.

"As long as you listen to your teacher, and you're a good boy at home, I will take you to the park". She held up a pinky. "Pinky promise".

He looked doubtful, not particularly swayed by Mac's words.

"Have I ever lied to you, AJ?"

AJ thought about her question for a moment before vigorously shaking his head in the negative. "No, Aun Mac. Mommy and Daddy say wying is bad".

Mac nodded. "And they are right. Lying is never good". She reached out to take his mitted hand in hers. There were changes coming AJ's way, and in his little world, he didn't quite understand them, and it made him anxious. "You know, your mommy and daddy are going to need a lot of help when the new baby gets here. I just know you are going to be a great big brother, and a great helper to them".

"I am?" AJ asked, eyes growing wide.

Mac couldn't help but smile at his innocence. "Of course you are. Look at what a big boy you've grown to be."

He contemplated her words for a moment before nodding. "I wuv you Aun Mac," he finally said, capturing her heart completely.

She tugged the boy close, planting a kiss on the crown of his head. He smelled of preschool crayons and peanut butter and rambunctious energy. "Do you know how much I love you, little man?"

AJ pulled back far enough to stretch his arms out wide, a sweet grin covering his face.

"You got it, kiddo! I love you," she mirrored his arms, "THIIIIIIIIS MUCH!" To her delight, he threw himself into her arms, and she hauled him onto her lap, wishing to hold him forever. The familiar pang of envy swelled exponentially within her heart, making it ache with a longingness for the one thing she wanted most but feared she'd never have. It wasn't the first time these feelings had manifested, but it was becoming increasingly regular as the little boy's fifth birthday inched ever closer. The reminder of what she didn't have threatened to drown her heart. She had been emotional enough on Thanksgiving, knowing it was her last one with Matthew. Then, when Harriet announced her pregnancy during dinner, it brought her feelings back to the surface, where she managed to stuff them down just long enough to get thru the festivities. But when she spent the previous evening hanging ornaments, ornaments that had been made by AJ, Chloe, and the little girl in Bosnia, she had felt such a rush of love and fear. Love for those three precious lives that had changed her irreversibly; fear that she would never have a sweet little boy of her own to throw his arms around her and tell her how much he loved her.

"How about we feed these guys?" She hugged AJ once more, kissed the top of his head, and set him on his feet. "I bet they are hungry, what do you think?"

The agreeable little boy nodded, and Mac took his hand, and together, they took turns showering the group of ducks with fish food, both minds on big changes coming their way, albeit different changes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE::


	22. Chapter 21

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Twenty-One

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1500

Saturday Following Thanksgiving

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

After a filling lunch of homemade taco soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, the two set out to make quick work of the household chores, with Harm taking care of meal cleanup and Mac tending to the laundry. The stack of freshly laundered towels threatened to topple over as she tucked them on the shelf of the linen closet by the spare bathroom. The final load of laundry, thank goodness, was still tumbling in the dryer. It seemed the more she washed, the bigger the pile grew behind her. Using her hip, she nudged the linen closet door shut, then headed for the living room. As she passed the kitchen doorway, she paused, mesmerized by Harm's movements. With a towel thrown casually over his shoulder, he was busy loading the dishwasher, and his muscles moved fluidly with the efforts. It baffled her how he could make even the most mundane of work appear so attractive. Sexy.

As she watched him pour detergent into the dispenser, a strange sense of contentment settled over her.

He belonged there. In her apartment.

Was this what marriage felt like?

Marriage…

_'Well, that's what you want, isn't it, Mackenzie?'_

Of course.

It was the only thing she had ever really wanted out of life, aside from her career. What was it she had said women wanted to Harm all those years ago? A woman wanted three things in life: a good man, a good career, and shoes. Lots of comfortable shoes. A good career took some work to build, but it was within reach. The shoes were simple to procure, provided one could find the right shoe store. But finding the man? Not so easy.

With a sigh, an uncomfortable realization settled in her mind: she was growing entirely too reliant on Harm, becoming too accustomed to the routine they'd developed over the course of the past few weeks. For someone who prided herself on being independent and smart in most areas of her life, she was concerned she might have made a monumental mistake in agreeing to Harm moving in for the sake of Matthew's care. It was one thing to allow the man to help her in that regard. It was quite another to let him sneak into her heart while she wasn't paying attention.

And….he'd done exactly that; so effortlessly, without word or warning. He was a most selfless man, and she knew he would do whatever he could to ensure Matthew's needs were met.

Her cheeks warmed at the comment he'd made about little AJ. Harriet and Bud, she felt, were the epitome of what she wanted most in life: A home bursting at the seams with love, loyalty, and devotion. Two people who loved each other, who'd lived any parent's worst fear. And whereas most marriages fall apart after the loss of a child, the Roberts' proved that they weren't just another statistic. If anything, the unexpected death of their daughter forged a stronger bond between the two, and their devotion to keeping their little family together only grew fiercer.

Mac shook her head to clear her thoughts and deposited the laundry basket at the end of the couch. "Uncle Matt, is there anything you need while I'm out? I'll be gone awhile".

Matthew set aside the magazine he'd been reading and looked over at his niece. It was time. "No, not that I can think of. But before you go….we need to talk". He nodded in Harm's direction, and Mac noted, with a stab of unpleasant apprehension, the hesitant way in which Harm eased himself into the chair beside her. He avoided her gaze, which only served to heighten her concern.

Harm handed him the leather portfolio containing his financial paperwork and living will.

"When you were born, I bought several savings bonds, and I opened up a savings account in which I put money in every year. It was my intention to give it to you for a down payment on a house, or your wedding, whichever happened to come first. I'm not sure if there is anything left. I don't even know if the bonds are worth anything at this point. The state of Kansas may have taken everything after my conviction. But all the information I have is here in this portfolio". He gestured towards the papers tucked neatly in the left pocket of the leather binder. "As far as my body is concerned, I want to donate myself to science, and then be cremated. Toss some of my ashes at Red Rock and use the rest to plant a tree. Don't shove me in the ground. I want to be of some good to this world".

Mac was quiet for a moment while she read over his will, the unpleasant reality of his impending death viciously wrapping itself around her heart. "Okay, Uncle Matt. If that's what you want, I'll make sure it happens".

He grasped her hand and squeezed it. "Good, that's settled, then".

_'Now for the hard part….'_

He glanced at Harm, who shifted uneasily in his chair. "Now that I have your word you will carry out my wishes, we need to discuss what I want done in the hours leading up to my death".

Dread lodged thick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, but she nodded at him to continue.

"As hospice explained, I will most likely lose consciousness as I transition into the active dying stage. When that occurs, I've instructed Harm to call AJ. AJ will come over to see to me, and the two of you," he gestured at them, "are to not return to the apartment until I have passed, and the mortuary has picked me up".

As if in slow motion, all the color drained from Mac's face. She pressed a hand to her chest as if she'd been sucker-punched.

"Y-you wa- you want me to do…..what?" She shook her head in disbelief. Surely….surely she'd heard…wrong?

"I do not want you here when I am actively dying," Matthew reiterated.

His words were a punch in the gut, and the icy fingers of comprehension grabbed on tightly and yanked her down. She sucked in a breath. "Uncle Matt….h-how could you even make a request like that!?"

"Because it's what I want, Sarah". Matthew replied matter-of-factly.

"No, Uncle Matt, I don't think so!"

"You promised, Sarah!" he firmly interjected, then immediately softened his tone. "You promised. You promised you would abide by my wishes. I've told you want I want. And I know you will be honorable and stand by your word".

Her mouth tightened and she swiped angrily at the tears coursing down her cheeks. How could he make such a request? How could her uncle, the one man she loved as much as Harm, send her away in a time he needed her most?

_'Or is it you that needs him the most?'_

She pushed away the obtrusive thought, as painfully accurate as it was, and clamored to her feet. She was furious! Furious with Matthew for making such a request. Furious with Harm for going behind her back. Furious with life for taking away the one person who'd wanted her and loved her when own her mother didn't.

"I appreciate you taking care of me these last few months, Sarah, but as far as I'm concerned, this is where your commitment ends.

Disbelief washed over her in torrent waves, and she visibly shook from the feelings. When she'd finally managed to find her voice again, it took everything in her to keep it steady. "So that's it, huh? Just like that? No consideration at all as to my thoughts or feelings." She turned to Harm, who shied beneath her unforgiving glare. "And you...you agreed to this?" she whispered in disbelief, "how…how could you?"

As much as it pained him to take a hard line against his niece, he knew it was the only way he could protect her heart. Matthew shook his head. "Don't be upset with Harm. He's only doing as I asked. He's taking care of me".

Anger began to rise above her hurt and grief. She took great pride in her ability to care for Matthew, to be strong for them both. Despite her father's name on her birth certificate, Mac considered herself an O'Hara, with all the honor and responsibility epitomized in her uncle's name. Her gaze shifted from Harm, then to Matthew. "I thought I had been doing that for the last few months. But apparently, I wasn't doing a g-good e-enough j-job". To her horror, her voice broke on the last words and once more she felt the tears pool in her field of vision. The events over the course of the past few weeks, plus the knowledge that her uncle did not want her there pressed in on her with crushing, unrelenting force.

"Sarah, that's not true, not even in the slightest. I don't want you to go thru the pain of seeing me die. You've been through more than your fair share of heart ache, don't you think?"

While he watched Mac and Matthew struggle to reach a point of mutual understanding, Harm felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. During his caretaker duties over the course of the past few weeks, he'd grown privy to Matthew's wishes and regrets. The elder Colonel was a man who's pride, and dignity, were highly valued. Harm felt it was his responsibility to preserve it, but at what cost? Losing Mac's respect was one thing, but her friendship, and the steps they'd taken towards a future together was the one thing he couldn't bear to give up. He only hoped that in time, she'd see it.

"Mac, please just listen to him. He only wants what he feels is best, and that's to keep your heart from going thru any more pain than it already has".

Her heart squeezed fiercely in her chest, as if to reinforce this fact. But there was no use in arguing. Matthew had made up his mind, and apparently, with Harm's blessing. "Well," Mac cleared her throat as she fought to maintain her composure, "seeing as how you two have discussed all of this without including me, I don't think you need me here anymore". She turned on her heel and marched towards the couch. She quickly snatched up her coat and scarf, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere that had descended upon the apartment.

"Mac, wait, don't go." He reached out for her arm, afraid for her to leave distraught, especially given the sketchy road conditions due to the weather. The last thing he wanted was her driving upset and wind up in a car accident. He worried about her. He always did.

She stepped out of his reach, and the movement tore his heart. "Please, just don't," she warned, her voice wavering, "you've done enough". Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "It's certainly clear where you thought I mattered in all of this," she gestured towards her uncle, "which was nowhere at all". Her hands shook as she hurried to button her coat and wrap her scarf. "I need to get on the road to pick up my godson or else I'll be late".

She yanked open the door and walked out, pulling it shut behind her without another word or glance behind her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For a long awhile after Mac walked out, Harm stood at the kitchen counter, staring dully into the pasty concoction he'd mixed for the purpose of capturing Matthew's handprint. Harm felt like the world's biggest ass for discussing her uncle's plans without her knowledge, much less agreeing to them, but how could he protect her and respect Matthew's wishes at the same time? His chest felt achy and tight, as though he had just run a 5k with no warm-up. He knew his efforts were completely unnecessary as Mac did an excellent job of taking care of herself, but he found, buried underneath her fierce independence, an air of delicate vulnerability. She made him want to take care of her, to tuck her close and protect her from the hardships of life—an impulse he knew was completely ridiculous, not to mention borderline chauvinistic.

He was in an impossible situation, torn between his obligations to a man for whom he'd developed immense respect, and to the woman that had captured his heart so long ago. The realization had been approaching slowly for months, but with their date just a few weeks ago, it came raging in like the storm that pulled the city to a standstill earlier in the week. He loved her. He was in love with her. She was so many things to him: his partner, his best friend, his world, his….future.

At first, he hadn't recognized this soft, yet wild tenderness, the desire to be with her in every sense of the word. He found himself searching for ways to make her smile, to erase the trauma of her past, to chase away the demons he knew hunted her relentlessly in the night.

And there was the real conundrum. He had agreed to Matthew's requests because he felt it would protect Sarah's heart. But in true Rabb fashion, he'd managed to do everything but protect her.

Sighing heavily, he gave the pie tin on the counter a gentle shake to settle the mixture. His eyes were drawn to the box the plaster kit had come in. On the front, a newborn's handprint was advertised as a Christmas ornament, the tiny impression complimented by a pale pink ribbon. His heart flip-flopped at the memory of their conversation earlier that morning. For all the hours in his life, Harm knew he could never forget the expression on her face when he'd mentioned AJ's birthday; could never forget the way her eyes went all soft and warm. There wasn't a day that went by on the calendar that he didn't cross off; not a month that melted into another that he didn't count down. The thought of their promise was what kept him going thru the hardest of days and the darkest of nights.

Returning to the living room, he set the pie tin between Matthew's legs, helping him to seal his handprint whilst taking great care to stabilize his shaky hand.

He broke the heavy silence that had descended upon them. "She's angry with me, Matthew".

The elder Colonel was quiet for a moment while the mixture pooled between his spread fingers. It would take several minutes for the handprint to set, and he hoped it would turn out well for her sake. "No, she's not. She's angry at the situation, Harm"

"Is she?" Harm tossed out with disbelief, glancing at the front door. He half-expected Mac to walk back in to argue her case once more.

"Yes. When Sarah can't control a situation or an outcome, she channels her frustration into the incorrect assumptions of her abilities, or inabilities". He paused to rub his free hand over his forehead in frustration. "That bastard, Joe, really did a number on her. And Deanna did, too. Neither of them had any business being a parent, but here we are, and Sarah has paid dearly for her raising, or lack thereof. All those doubts and insecurities you see in her, you can thank Joe and Deanna for almost every single one of them".

Harm checked his watch: two more minutes and the impression would be set. For a moment, it was silent in the apartment as he contemplated what to say. "I feel like I've betrayed her, Matthew. I'm supposed to take care of her, not hurt her".

Matthew laid a gentle hand on his arm. "No, you haven't. If anything, you've freed her from the obligations of watching someone she loves dies. And that, is the greatest form of protection you could give anyone. She'll come around, Harm. Give her time". He sighed heavily. "Just give my girl time".

But time was the one thing they didn't have to give.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1700

Oak Creek Park

Falls Church, VA

Traffic was busier than she expected as she turned the sportscar onto Riverbend Street, the long, winding path that ran the eastern perimeter of the river. On this, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Georgetown was clogged with shoppers trying to get a head-start on their holiday shopping. A group of small townhouses sat on the opposite side of the narrow channel, their reflections wobbling in the undulating water. She loved that none of the houses were the same, each one constructed from stucco and stones pulled from the very river that pooled in front of them. Some of the older buildings remained to preserve the town's historic flavor, even as newer, more modern developments popped up around them. It was nice to see the town embrace both the old and the new, without sacrificing space or aesthetics to do so.

As they passed beneath a grove of overarching oak trees, her godson's mindless chattering picked up once more as his excitement reignited upon seeing the shoreline. She managed to snag a parking place close to a cluster of benches a few feet from the water's edge. Outside, songbirds flitted from the branches of one of the big oaks, their cheerful tweets and chirps mingling with the breeze rustling the leaves. Wearily, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the door, the late afternoon sun spilling into the car's interior thru the shaded window and sunroof. They had about an hour, maybe less, before the sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving the darkness to steal away the last vestiges of warmth. She had managed to keep herself going all these months. She bit back the tears. She could make it thru this, too.

Her uncle was dying.

She knew this, of course. Had known for months. Had thought she had come to terms with it. Had thought she had her emotions fully in control. But the conversation with Matthew had left her struggling to reel them in, and the realization was numbing. She felt as if she had been encased in the same layer of thick ice that trapped the outer edges of the pond. Her life had become something she never expected. As a little girl, she wanted four things: to have a successful career, to be a wife, a mother, to love and be loved, to want, and to be wanted.

She didn't get a chance to say goodbye to her mother. Deanna had simply vanished into the night of her fifteenth birthday, without so much as a kiss goodbye, a birthday card, or a forwarding address. It had been her choice, and Sarah had had no control over it. And while her mother (the latest she knew), was alive and well, her abandonment had felt like a death. The loss had been sudden, with no warning, no explanation. She was there one day; gone the next.

Then there was Eddy, whose death she would always blame herself for. She'd not been given the chance to say goodbye. After the 'JAWS OF LIFE' had extracted her from the pile of mangled steel, she'd been whisked away to the hospital. It was only days later, after her surgery for internal injuries that she was given the devastating news. Eddy, who seemed larger than life, whose infectious laugh and witty humor could lift even the downtrodden of spirits, was dead. Gone. A life cut short on the cusp of a beautiful beginning.

To make matters worse, his family's religious beliefs did not condone embalming, and so he was buried two days later. Following her release from the hospital, Matthew had taken her straight to the mountains of Arizona to dry out. It was months before she was able to visit his grave, to grieve, and to ask for forgiveness.

Her father's death, she supposed, could be grouped in there as well. She'd arrived at Hospice of the Sacred Heart to settle the rift between them and to say her goodbyes. But life delivered a cruel blow: Joe had succumbed to a coma just two hours prior. Surprisingly, her mother had been there, but took no part in burying the man with whom she'd loved enough at one point in her life to create a child. And just as she had done twelve years prior, Deanna stole away into the dark, leaving her daughter to clean up the mess of her departure once more.

Then there was Dalton. In the wake of the abrupt end to their relationship, she'd reluctantly agreed to meet him at McMurphy's so she could say her piece and wish him well. Once again, life delivered another cruel blow, with that ill-fated meeting resulting in his death at the hands of a carjacker. And as he lay in the drenched alley, gasping for his last moments with the living, she'd forced aside the hurt, the anger, and the resentment she felt towards him. Instead, she'd choked out a promise she knew was as fake and cheap as the box store Christmas tree in her living room…all to satisfy the dying man's pathetic attempt to secure her love into the beyond.

And now…Matthew. Cancer was taking him, but he was taking away her right to be there at the very end. To her, it was the utmost form of betrayal. She'd lost so many that she'd not been given the opportunity to end it on her terms. And she was tired of it. Tired of those she loved being taken from her without so much as a goodbye.

She knew, in the center of her heart, that she was being irrational. Unrealistic, really. And she also realized that Harm was in an uncomfortable situation, having to choose between her and Matthew. She knew he was trying to be as supportive and protective, as he always was when it came to her. She just, bless it, had a hard time seeing it. A twinge of guilt pinched at the corners of her heart. As much as she ached with pain for losing all those she loved, Mac knew it was foolhardy to try to control those situations that couldn't be controlled. It was like nailing jello to a tree.

"Are you otay, Aun Mac?"

AJ's little voice broke her from her thoughts. To her horror, she realized she'd been silently crying, the tears running down her cheeks unchecked. A flush of embarrassment crossed her face and she quickly swiped away the evidence. How could she have let her mind wander so much that he saw it? Guilt pinched at her again. She would have to do a better job of hiding her emotions.

"I'm okay, little man," she lied, willing her voice to sound steady and cheerful.

"Can we go now?".

His eagerness to get out of the car was apparent, and Mac took it as her que to exit the Corvette. "Of course, little man". The wind nipped at her jean-clad legs the moment she stepped out, and she silently thanked herself for wearing thermals. Opening the passenger door, she unbuckled AJ's carseat restraints before slipping him into his winter coat and mittens. She grabbed the bag containing their supplies and led them along the cobblestone path to benches that dotted the shore.

"Will der be lots of ducks, Aunt Mac?" AJ asked, slipping his little hand into hers and gazing up at her with eyes that pinched her heart every time.

"Oh, I bet there will be plenty," Mac answered, pointing to the large colony of fowl opposite the shoreline. "Look, there's a bunch on the other side of the pond". She chose a bench a foot or two away from the water's edge and removed the fleece blanket so she could spread it across the cold metal slats. "Now, we'll sit here, and we'll throw a little bit to get their attention".

"But der way over der, Aun Mac. Dey won't see us". AJ noted, his face drawing up in distress as he craned his neck to see them.

"Just you wait and see, little man. They'll be over here in no time". Mac opened the Ziploc bag and placed a small portion of the kibble in AJ's mitted hand. "Now you stay right here. Don't move". While the city had recently renovated the park and improved the stone perimeter that hugged the edge of the river, it was slick from an accumulation of duck droppings and snow. The last thing she wanted was for AJ to slip and fall into the sub-freezing water.

The water lapped at the frozen edge, and the sound filtered in with it sweet memories from her time as a young girl. Matthew would oftentimes take her out on the weekends when he was off-duty. He'd pull up in his old '69 Toronado, and she'd flip a coin. Heads meant their destination was the mountains rising high above the rust colored dunes where he taught her how to identify dinosaur tracks. Tails sent them to the chuckling waters of the Verde River, where he taught her how to reel in rainbow trout without losing her line or lure.

Mac had started drinking shortly after her mother had abandoned her at age fifteen. By the time she was seventeen, her drinking was growing out of control, though that hadn't stopped her from graduating high school and obtaining a partial scholarship to the local college based on her near-perfect ACT score. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that had it not been for Matthew's interference, the turbulent waters of life would have dragged her under. She never blamed anyone for her poor choices, only blamed her mother for not loving her enough to secure her daughter's well-being and future.

A tug at her coat sleeve interrupted her thoughts. "Aunt Mac? Can you hurry? The ducks are gonna swim away".

Mac sighed. It was the second time in the span of fifteen minutes that she'd managed to zone out, and with AJ being so dangerously close to the frigid water, it made her mentally kick herself. She really was going to have to get a better handle on her emotions. "They haven't gone anywhere, AJ. Look", she pointed across the shoreline, where the ducks, having noticed a readily available source of food, had begun to make their way across the water. "See? They're already swimming over here".

AJ sniffled, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his coat. "But I won't get to see dem no mores".

"Here baby," she pulled a pack of Kleenex out of her purse and cleaned his nose for him, "don't do that. Use tissues." She prodded for more information. "What makes you think you won't see the ducks again?"

AJ sniffled but remembered his tissues and used them instead of his coat sleeves. "Mommy said when da new baby comes, she can't take me no mores".

Ahhhh. So that was it.

A light bulb went off in Mac's head, and pieces of the puzzle fell together for a clear picture. AJ's behavior at school had nothing to do with his unwillingness to follow directions and everything to do with his fear nobody would have time for him.

"Well, it will take your mommy awhile to get better after having the baby. How about I take you to see the ducks? Would you be okay with that until your mommy can take you again?"

"You pwomise?" AJ gave her a skeptical look.

"As long as you listen to your teacher, and you're a good boy at home, I will take you to the park". She held up a pinky. "Pinky promise".

He looked doubtful, not particularly swayed by Mac's words.

"Have I ever lied to you, AJ?"

AJ thought about her question for a moment before vigorously shaking his head in the negative. "No, Aun Mac. Mommy and Daddy say wying is bad".

Mac nodded. "And they are right. Lying is never good". She reached out to take his mitted hand in hers. There were changes coming AJ's way, and in his little world, he didn't quite understand them, and it made him anxious. "You know, your mommy and daddy are going to need a lot of help when the new baby gets here. I just know you are going to be a great big brother, and a great helper to them".

"I am?" AJ asked, eyes growing wide.

Mac couldn't help but smile at his innocence. "Of course you are. Look at what a big boy you've grown to be."

He contemplated her words for a moment before nodding. "I wuv you Aun Mac," he finally said, capturing her heart completely.

She tugged the boy close, planting a kiss on the crown of his head. He smelled of preschool crayons and peanut butter and rambunctious energy. "Do you know how much I love you, little man?"

AJ pulled back far enough to stretch his arms out wide, a sweet grin covering his face.

"You got it, kiddo! I love you," she mirrored his arms, "THIIIIIIIIS MUCH!" To her delight, he threw himself into her arms, and she hauled him onto her lap, wishing to hold him forever. The familiar pang of envy swelled exponentially within her heart, making it ache with a longingness for the one thing she wanted most but feared she'd never have. It wasn't the first time these feelings had manifested, but it was becoming increasingly regular as the little boy's fifth birthday inched ever closer. The reminder of what she didn't have threatened to drown her heart. She had been emotional enough on Thanksgiving, knowing it was her last one with Matthew. Then, when Harriet announced her pregnancy during dinner, it brought her feelings back to the surface, where she managed to stuff them down just long enough to get thru the festivities. But when she spent the previous evening hanging ornaments, ornaments that had been made by AJ, Chloe, and the little girl in Bosnia, she had felt such a rush of love and fear. Love for those three precious lives that had changed her irreversibly; fear that she would never have a sweet little boy of her own to throw his arms around her and tell her how much he loved her.

"How about we feed these guys?" She hugged AJ once more, kissed the top of his head, and set him on his feet. "I bet they are hungry, what do you think?"

The agreeable little boy nodded, and Mac took his hand, and together, they took turns showering the group of ducks with fish food, both minds on big changes coming their way, albeit different changes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE::


	23. Chapter 22

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Twenty-Two

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1830

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, DC

Matthew observed the tense way Mac held herself as she wrapped the last of the Christmas presents. Her tight shoulders, and her jerky motions, were a dead giveaway to the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. But he knew the anger was not directed at him, necessarily; more so it was at the lack of control she felt over the situation. And he knew better than anyone what that felt like. He had dealt with this during his first few months at Leavenworth: the all-consuming despair, mixed with the raging anger, simmered constantly. Despair at having to spend the next ten years behind bars. Despair at missing out, yet again, on so much of Sarah's life. Angry at life. Angry with himself. Angry with everyone and everything. But over time, he had the opportunity to do a lot of self-reflection, and he'd realized that while his convictions in stealing the Declaration of Independence may have been justified, the way he went about getting his message across was fool-hardy. And he'd paid a dear price for it. Four years of lost time with his niece that he'd never get back. Four years of being another number in the prison system.

It frequently crossed his mind as to how he would return to society and be a productive, contributing citizen. Naturally, Mac insisted he live with her upon his release, but being a man of great pride, Matthew would never agree to this arrangement. He would not allow himself to be a burden to her. She had her own life, her own hopes and dreams to pursue. He was the last person that wanted to infringe upon that. He had no idea that getting his life together after his term was over would never be an option. Instead, life, in its cruel way, had dealt him a crushing blow. And yet again, his niece was paying the price. Regret was an awful, constant companion to a man approaching the sunset hour of his life. He was exhausted, his energy all but sapped; it took so much effort just to sit upright in the shower while Harm bathed him. He was having to lean more and more on Harm's strength each day...and he hated it. He surely didn't want to spend their last days fighting, or arguing.

"Sarah? Please don't be angry with me." He blinked back the tears biting at the corners of his eyes. "It was never my intention to hurt you. Never."

Mac set aside the neatly wrapped gift (a set of picture books for little AJ), then grabbed the next one. Upon returning home, her uncle had been asleep, and Harm was gone, apparently, to run errands. Between the time spent with little AJ and the near-solitude at the apartment, she'd given a lot of thought to her uncle's requests. She thumbed a free hand across her face to whisk away the hot tears sliding down her cheeks. Her voice trembled when she spoke. "I'm not mad."

Matthew didn't accept her rebuttal. "Baby, I can see it in the way you hold yourself. You're upset with me." He weakly patted the space beside him. "Can you come here? I want us to talk. Really talk."

She twisted a wad of ribbon in her hands before dropping it with resignation. "All right, Uncle Matt." She deflated, not knowing how to handle her resentment and anger as she covered the short distance to his bed and took a seat. "I can do that."

He took her hands within one of his larger ones, using the other to tip her chin up so they were eye level. "Sarah, you are, by far, the strongest person I've ever known. Ever." He emphasized the last word, keeping a hand underneath her chin so she couldn't look away. "Stronger than any man who served alongside me in combat. Stronger than any of my battalion leaders. I'd trust you with my life."

The tears spilled over the rim of her eyes, but she didn't bother to wipe them away this time. "And yet, you can't trust me with your death. You planned all of this without even talking to me about it. Why? Do you think I'm not strong enough to handle this? Do you think I'm weak? Or am I just in your way?" She sniffled. "I mean, if that's the case, all you had to do was say so. Hell, my own mother left just so she could get away from me."

Matthew sighed, his hand dropping away from her face. "No Baby Duck, I could never…would never think that. Sarah, I love you, so much the thought of you having to see them zip me up in a body bag, load me in a hearse, and watch them drive away, was a thought simply too painful for me to bear. I know what it's like to be left with unpleasant memories. I know what it feels like to see those I loved be with me one minute, and then stuffed in a body bag the next. The informality of everything, the coldness of it all, it was," he paused, his eyes immeasurably dark and sad. "It was terrible. And I don't want you to have to go through that. You only get one chance at a last memory. There are no do-overs." He squeezed her hand with as much strength as he could muster. "Think about it tonight. And when you wake up tomorrow, if you are still truly angry with me...then I won't do it."

Mac fell silent for a long moment, and the two sat quietly for several minutes to allow some of the tension to dissipate. Sure, his request had stung worse than a hornet, and she'd felt betrayed by Harm's willingness to agree to it. But…the more she thought about it, the more she realized that maybe…she'd overreacted. And she could see some of the unpleasant, but necessary, truth behind his words. She took a deep breath. "No, Uncle Matt. I didn't handle this whole thing very well. I'm not angry at you and I'm not angry at Harm. I'm angry at," she swallowed thickly, "I'm angry at the cancer. At life. For stealing you from me. You have every right to…leave here with your dignity and peace intact. And," she bit her lip, mustering up the courage, "if you don't want me here when that happens, then I won't be."

He looked down at their hands. "I would never, ever, do anything that would intentionally hurt you, Sarah. You've been my highest joy. My greatest pride. And I feel the need to clarify a few things. Sarah, your mother did love you. She just couldn't….bless her, she just didn't know how to be a mother. She couldn't get herself together enough to be one. Our own childhood was less than what you would consider ideal. She was barely 18 when she became pregnant with you."

At her doubtful look, Matthew squeezed her hand to let her know he wasn't finished. "I'm not making excuses or justifying what she did, Sarah, believe you me. I can never forgive her for walking out on her own child. But, I'm sharing with you what I know, and maybe give you a different perspective in which to look from. It's not always black and white. There are many shades of grey." He gave her a brief smile. "And while we're on the subject of life and motherhood, Sarah, know, without a doubt, that when the time comes for you to move on to the next stage of your life, and take on the noble mantel that is motherhood, you won't make the same mistakes. You'll be so much better at it".

Mac sniffled, her voice trembling with her next words. "Uncle Matt, I'm terrified. What if…what if I'm no different than mom? I mean, look at my life. I haven't always made the best choices. I've screwed up. A LOT. You know that. I…I could never live with myself if I messed up my child's life."

"Sarah, we all make mistakes…decisions we're not proud of." He took in her apartment, the soft music from Christmas carols playing in the background, the twinkling of the Christmas lights in the corner, the numerous presents now piled haphazardly around the tree. "But I want you to take a good look around. I think your life has turned out pretty spectacular in spite of these, so-called, 'bad' decisions you've made." He bumped her shoulder with his knuckles. "Come on, look at you. You've got twelve years of sobriety behind you. You're an outstanding lawyer. You're a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps. You earned the Medal of Honor for your actions in Indonesia. You live in a beautiful apartment, decorated like it's straight out of Southern Living ®. You've got a wonderful godson, and another godchild on the way. An amazing career with coworkers who consider you to be family. You've got a Commanding Officer who would give you the shirt off his back. And, you've got a man who would give up his life for you. All these things you have…have you ever stopped to really, really think about them?"

At a loss for words, Mac simply shook her head.

"You say you haven't always made the best decisions, and maybe you haven't. Do I agree with your marriage to Chris? Hell no! He was the sorriest bastard that ever walked this Earth, and he took advantage of you. And your relationship with John Farrow, do I agree with that? No. And not because he was older than you. But because you were in the same chain of command and he outranked you. But look where that decision got you." He gestured towards her Duke University diploma hanging above the mantle. "If you hadn't met Colonel Farrow, would you have even considered yourself worthy enough for law school?"

Mac gave a self-conscious shrug. She really didn't know how to answer that question. Or if she even wanted to.

He answered for her. "No, you wouldn't. Think about it, Sarah. If you hadn't been recommended to law school, you wouldn't have been recruited by the Admiral to join JAG. You wouldn't have been partnered with Harm. You wouldn't have met Bud and Harriet. You wouldn't be godmother to the sweetest little boy in the world. Yes, a mistake can have long-lasting consequences. But when they don't and you've paid your dues, don't dwell on them." He squeezed her hands. "And one thing is for sure, Sarah. I have no doubt about what a wonderful mother you will be. That baby will be so very blessed to have you and Harm for a mother and father. And that is one of the things I am looking forward to the most when I go home." A look of utter happiness and contentment crossed his face as he placed his hand just above the heart. "I get to choose your baby, Sarah. Your baby! And when the time is right, you'd better know I've handpicked a very special baby, the very one meant for you."

A watery smile graced her lips, and she glanced at him from beneath her bangs tucked to the side. "A baby, huh?"

His grin lit up the room. "Of course! The two of you have a promise to uphold, remember?" He gave her a teasing poke in the ribs. "Or did you think I forgot about that?"

"You already know what I want, don't you, Uncle Matt?"

"I do, indeed," he nodded, "But only when the time is right. And it won't be, for a little while." He gave her a wink. "You've got to give me some time to get settled in up there, you know."

A blush slipped across her cheeks. "And when is a little while?"

Matthew chuckled at that. "You'll see, Sarah. You'll see."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(SOME TIME LATER)

Mac was resting alongside her uncle when the quiet rustling of keys and bags roused her from her light sleep. It was Harm, returning from running errands, and juggling three paper sacks of groceries in his arms. She gently extracted herself and came over to lend him a hand. His gaze lowered to the floor the moment she approached him. He seemed uneasy, and she remembered, with a pang of regret, that he was probably afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. And I was gone longer than I wanted to be, but we were out of everything." He tipped his head in Matt's direction. "Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was fine. Fell asleep a little while ago."

Together, they headed towards the kitchen, and out of habit, he went to place his hand at the small of her back. As if touching her was a painful reminder that he'd messed up in their relationship, he remembered they weren't a couple and suddenly dropped his arm. Trying to hide the bereft feeling that came over her, Mac fought back the tears and began putting away the groceries. Both were silent for several minutes. She sensed, by his body language, that he didn't want to talk. Or worse, didn't want to be in the same room with her. After placing the carton of eggs on the top shelf of the fridge, she joined him at the sink where he occupied himself rinsing a bowl of fresh fruit. She stood next to him, her shoulder brushing against his. The delicate touch made him glance up, but just as quickly, it skidded away.

She bit back the tears.

'You only have yourself to blame, Mackenzie!'

After another moment of silence, he finally spoke. "I owe you an apology, Mac."

She considered his statement, then shook her head as she reached into the bowl to de-stem a fresh strawberry. Admitting weakness was hard, because it meant she wasn't as strong as she'd led herself to believe for so many years. "No, you don't. If anyone owes an apology here, it's me." He started to open his mouth, but she halted him with a firm, but gentle hand on his forearm. "I need to finish, please."

After a few moments of silence, she worked up enough to say what was on her mind. "I was wrong to get upset with you earlier. You were only doing what was best for me, and Uncle Matt. I, uh…I don't handle it well when I'm not in control". She gave a quick glance in his direction, then lowered her eyes once again. She dropped the now de-stemmed strawberry into the bowl before picking up another. "It's not about controlling people". She held her breath and waited for his reaction, but there was none. "It's about controlling situations."

Harm looked at her out of the corner of his eyes but didn't say anything. The imperceptible shift in her demeanor was palpable, as though just sorting out what was on her mind took a great deal of effort. He clamped down on the lump in his throat and grabbed another strawberry.

She continued on, gesturing helplessly in the direction of the living room. "Cancer has taken that control away from me and that's been hard…so very hard, to accept. And when," she bit her lip as she fought to keep her composure, "when Uncle Matt told me…he didn't want me there, it made me feel like I wasn't….good enough, or, or strong enough, to handle it. And it stung like hell." A vulnerable look marred her beautiful features. She took a deep breath as though bracing herself for something painful. "I have a lot of insecurities, mostly when it comes to what people, especially you, think of my abilities. I mean, I'm not the most confident person in the world. I put on a great act at work. But," she raked a shaky hand thru her hair, "the truth is, at the end of the day... it's all just that. An act."

Harm longed to reach between them and take her into his arms, to comfort and soothe away the hurt and pain. He couldn't bear to see her upset, but he knew she needed to get whatever it was she was feeling off her chest. He simply nodded, acknowledging that he'd heard her. He'd heard every word, and it broke his heart. He made quick work of the remaining strawberries and shifted his attention to the peaches.

She sighed, resting a hand on his forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "But that's my problem to deal with. Not yours. It was very wrong of me to take my anger out on you and make you my battering ram. You handling everything concerning Uncle Matt, well….it's what needed to happen". She wiped her hands on a dishtowel as her gaze slid to the floor in defeat. "I guess you can say I'm weak and can't handle the hard stuff."

At this, Harm quickly set aside the paring knife he'd been using on the peach and turned to face her. He wasted no time slipping his arms around her; she willingly stepped into his embrace, fighting the hot tears that begged for release. He could feel the tremulous shudder of her body, and he pulled her closer. "Mac," he cupped her face, "listen to me. I could never think of you as weak. It guts me to even know those thoughts cross your mind, let alone know that's how see yourself. And I'm going to do everything, everything in my power to remind you of your worth. Every day. For always. I just… I hate I can't fix it for you, that I can't make it better".

Tears pooled out of her eyes at the tenderness woven within his oath and declaration. Her heart hurt too much to think or plan for the days ahead following his impending absence. And she was tired. Defeated.

"I'm not sure what I would do without you." She'd just admitted to both of them that it was a relief to surrender, if not for a lifetime, but just for today. She, the queen of all 'Type-A' personalities, was allowing Harmon Rabb Jr. to step in and completely take over. It felt good…relinquishing control. Even if just for a little while. "Thank you".

He tentatively reached for her hand, desperate to touch her. "You've done fine without me for years, Sarah. You are so strong." He wanted her to know how much he admired her strength, her tenacity, her perseverance. How much her kindness and generosity made his heart swell with pride. Life hadn't given him very many breaks, and while it had certainly been hard for him in its own way, he'd made out quite well. He had a wonderful stepfather who loved Trish as much as his Harm, Sr. had. He'd been given a robust trust fund and educational opportunities that most could only ever dream about. He suddenly felt ashamed. Even knowing what he knew about Mac, he'd never really given much thought as to how her childhood had truly affected her. And, he realized, it was because he'd never bothered to.

He thought about how different their lives had been, how sharply their paths had diverged. He had flourished in a home bursting at the seams with endless love and support. Mac, on the other hand, had been enslaved in a home collapsing under the enormous weight of chronic alcoholism, and emotional and physical abuse. Two people, who were supposed to love and cherish her, had done the exact opposite. And what made Harm's heart ache to its core, was the realization that the only thing his beloved Marine saw when she looked in the mirror, was a soul unworthy of the basic human element of love.

As he held her in his arms, Harm could literally feel the fatigue emanating from her body, and the dark shadows beneath her eyes revealed her exhaustion. The day had been emotionally draining for her. For both of them, really.

"So, are we okay, now?"

"Yeah," she bit her lip and smile, that soft, sweet smile that sent his heart into hyperdrive. "We're more than okay."

"I'm so glad, Sarah. So glad." He pressed a tender kiss on the crown of her head. "I couldn't bear it if you hated me."

She pulled away enough to look in his eyes, her own wide with surprise. "Harm? I could never hate you. Oh, never!"

For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say more, but seemed to change his mind and suddenly switched gears. "I'll remember that card so I can play it when I beat you in court next time." He grinned, unable to keep the smile from his face as their familiar banter seemed to be coming back into the fold.

"I hope you plan on holding onto that card for a long time, flyboy." She graced him with a soft smile before slipping out of his embrace and turning back to the task of slicing the peaches.

"We'll see, counselor," he chuckled, "we'll see".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

(One week later)

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, DC

Harm resentfully eyed the pile of dollar bills on the small table between them. He had a lot of catching up to do, if he had any hope of beating her. But it appeared the cards were, quite literally, stacked against him. It was Saturday evening, and at Mac's insistence, Harm had made the dire mistake of engaging in a round of poker with her.

A hint of twinkling mirth slipped into her eyes. "Sure you want to go another round, flyboy? You keep this up and you won't have any lunch money for a month".

He sighed, tossing his cards onto the table. "I think I know when it's time to call it quits".

This elicited a squeal of delight from Mac, and she gleefully raking the dollar bills over to her side of the table. "Just so you know, Uncle Matt taught me everything about how to play a mean game of poker".

Harm glanced over at his shoulder where Matthew simply shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "What can I say, Harm? She learned from the best. I would have failed her if I didn't teach her the ways of the poker world".

"And with that," Mac announced, stuffing the cards back into their sleeve, "It's about time for bed. I've got a hearing in the morning". She gestured at Matt. "The hospice nurse is coming tomorrow check your pump".

Harm swallowed the nervous lump that jumped into his throat. Mac was retiring for the evening.

It was now or never. And he'd been pushing off the inevitable for as long as he could stand it, trying to find the right words to say.

"Mac, if it's alright with you, I'd like a few minutes alone with your uncle."

Her gaze shifted suspiciously between them, but to Harm's gratitude, she didn't press for information. Instead, she conceded with a nod. "Sure. I need to take the trash and boxes to the dumpster, anyway". Mac handed the bills she'd collected back to Harm and saucily winked. "I'm feeling charitable, so behave yourself. I'll be back in a few".

Harm waited until the door shut behind her to take a seat. He rubbed his palms together in an attempt to dissipate his anxiety.

Matthew couldn't help but grin. No matter how either tried to hide it, he wasn't blind to the incredible pull between his niece and her beloved flyboy. "What's the matter, Harm? You're as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs!"

He fidgeted with his hands, eager to ease the anxiousness pulling at the threads of his heart. "Matt….you know…you know how much I care for Sarah. I love her with all of my heart. I love her more than anything in this world. We've been through so much together, and yet, through it all," he cleared his throat roughly, "she's never left me. She's stood by my side through so much. She's followed me to the ends of the Earth. Literally." He toyed with his Academy ring, trying to stifle the emotions welling from within. "You know, she went with me to Russia to search for my father".

Matthew nodded. "Yes. She told me. She was devastated when she had to tell you the truth. It was one of the worst days of her life."

Harm looked at him, incredulous. "She did?"

Matthew nodded. "It ripped her heart out to know what she had to tell you. I think, in a way, she felt responsible, and guilty, for hurting you".

Harm shook his head in disbelief. Of course, Mac had been the sole witness to one of the lowest points in his life, but until this point, he had been completely ignorant as to the depth of her grief for him.

"Matthew, she never thought twice about going with me. Never called me crazy. Never backed down. If anything, she only tried to talk sense into me because she wanted us to be safe. Without her, I-I don't know what would have happened to me,". He drew a shaky breath. "Any other woman would have left me a long time ago. And they have.

"Well, it's a good thing Sarah's not just any other woman, isn't it?"

He rubbed a shaking hand over his face as he jumped to his feet and nervously paced the small space between the couch and the bedside table. "Matt…..I-I want to be more than just her work partner. I can't go through the rest of my life without her. "This," he gestured at Matthew's hospital bed, referring to his situation, "has made me realize just how short, and precious life is. I can't go another year just being friends, Matthew. I can't. I-I want her. All of her. The whole kit and kaboodle. We made a deal to have a baby together, you know. Next year, as a matter of fact".

"I know that, too, Harm". A meaningful grin came to his lips. "And I've been wondering what the hell made you two fools decide on five years?"

His comment fell on deaf ears as Harm continued his nervous pacing. "But she deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. I can't…we can't have a baby together unless I marry her. And I won't marry her without your blessing." At this, he finally stopped his pacing and knelt beside Matthew. "Sir, will you…will you give me your blessing so I can ask Sarah to be my wife and the mother of my children?"

Matthew gave serious consideration to Harm's request. He knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the answers he would give to Harm's questions. He knew there was no better life mate for his little girl to marry. But even knowing this, he had to ask. After all, he'd made a promise 32 years ago, when the woman in question was but a seed of hope in his arms.

"Will you take care of her heart, no matter what? Will you honor her, be honest and truthful with her, love her and only her, unconditionally? Will you treat her as your equal? And do you swear, upon my life, to never, ever lay an angered hand upon her?"

Harm never broke eye contact with Matthew. "Yes, sir. Upon my father's name and wings, you have my promise and commitment."

"Then, yes, you have my blessing." Matthew swiped at the tears the jumped into his eyes. "I just wish I could walk my baby down the aisle."

"Oh, Matt, you will always be in her heart. Nothing, nothing can take that, not even death itself." Harm peered at him carefully. "I do have one more request. Will you promise to watch over us and help us through the hard times I know will come our way?"

"Upon Sarah's name and oak leaves, you have my word. But," Matthew pointed out, "seems like you have one major problem, Harm."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"You can't ask her without a ring".

He grinned, reaching into his breast pocket to retrieve a small velvet pouch. "Already taken care of, Matt." He'd had the bag for several weeks, keeping it on his person at all times while waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. "My paternal grandmother sent these to me awhile back." He gently tipped the bag so the rings fell into Matthew's hand, and he separated out a tiny, solid white-gold band. It had only one stone, placed in the middle, but to Harm, it was as gorgeous as if it'd had ten stones. "This one belongs to her. My grandfather gave it to her when they got married, just before he deployed to Germany during WWI. She was eighteen, he was twenty. He didn't have any money, but he always promised to get her a 'rich lady's ring', as he called it, when times got better. But my grandmother never wanted another ring; told him that band was just as good as any. And this one," he pulled away the other ring, "belonged to my mom. Just like my grandfather, my dad couldn't afford anything fancy, but mom didn't care. She was just happy he chose her." He sighed. "I don't know how to choose which one to give to her. They're both important to me."

Matthew fingered the rings for a moment as he gave the situation considerable thought. "How about a trilogy ring?"

A look of confusion crossed Harm's face. "A trilogy ring?"

"Of course! So, here," he pointed at the ring that belonged to his grandmother, "you have the love story of your grandparents." He then moved to Trish's band. "And this, tells the love story of your parents. Now, I'm going to throw my two cents in here, but I think you should ask Sarah to marry you with these two rings, and then take her and have her pick out a ring for your love story. You can nest them together using an infinity band setting. Infinity means true love never ends."

"That is perfect, Matt. Thank you." A smile lit up Harm's face as Matthew held out a hand to shake, sealing the deal.

Yes, indeed. A Trilogy ring. A love story of epic proportions.

A love that would take them into infinity.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO::


	24. Chapter 23 NEWEST CHAPTER!

Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Twenty-Three

Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"

Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.

Pairing: Harm/Mac

Category: Romance/Angst

Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.

Author's Note: This is the NEWEST chapter in the storyline. Enjoy!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1200 MT

JAG HQ

Admiral Chegwidden's Office

Falls Church, VA

The morning passed quickly, and as such, AJ spent most of it with his nose against the grindstone. It was almost the end of his workweek, if his duties as the JAG ever _really _ended. But he still had much work left to do. He methodically shuffled thru the cards filed neatly in his rolodex, searching for a particular point of contact. After the discussion with Matthew regarding his end-of-life requests, the former Navy SEAL had been on a mission. The elder Colonel had been stripped of all military privileges, but he was still a man of honor and integrity. He deserved, at the very least, an unofficial ceremony. And although AJ was obligated to support the UCMJ, there were times he felt the laws could afford to bend, even if just a little.

His fingers finally encountered the number he was searching for, and he quickly plucked it from the plastic ring. He was doing this partly for Matthew, but a much larger part was for Mac. In a private conversation, Matthew had shared a few intimate details of Sarah's childhood. When Matthew had plucked her out of the pathetic excuse that was her home, a part of him died upon seeing the deplorable living conditions. He'd carried so much guilt because he was unable to be there for his niece during her formative years. He'd petitioned the courts for permanent custody of her, citing the verbal, physical abuse and neglect at home. But with the lack of irrefutable proof, his military obligations, and being a widower, his request was denied. He'd told Harm and AJ the terrible things he'd heard Joe call his daughter over the years. Most were spoken during his endless drunken stupors; a string of demeaning verbs or nouns that served no purpose other than to demoralize. They especially had no purpose being assigned to another human being, let alone a man's own flesh and blood. But of the many descriptive words that spewed forth from Joe Mackenzie's hateful mouth, his assertion her mere existence was his biggest mistake was execrable. And it was something for which AJ wished he could punish the deceased man thrice over.

But while abuse ennobled some and embittered others, it held the former effect on his senior officer. She'd pulled herself up by her bootstraps, taking the beatings life handed her with an aire of dignity mixed with fortitude. She was determined. Stoic. The quintessential Marine in control. Despite all of the turmoil, Mac grew into one of the finest officers he'd ever commanded.

A surge of pride rushed through his crusted heart at her incredible spirit. She'd come so far, the sole result of her sheer tenacity and commitment to better herself.

AJ could sense his SEAL feelings bubbling to the surface yet again. He'd been unable to be there for his own daughter, a result of his military obligations and incorrect assumption that there would always be time for them. When she'd been kidnapped by her ex-lover, the guilt he carried at being unable to protect her felt like a truckload of bricks parked upon his chest. Up until now, he'd managed to stuff his feelings beneath a facade of military proprietary and regulations. SEALS learned to conceal, to compartmentalize their emotions, leaving no room for distractions so they could operate efficiently. Emotions were a liability, and one couldn't afford that.

Although he'd long ago left the combat zone, those feelings of protectiveness and guilt still followed, nipping at his heels. A constant reminder they were never far away.

He glanced at the clock above the door. He'd been working without stop for almost four hours. Giving himself a brief reprieve from the folder in front of him, AJ leaned back to flex his shoulders, grimacing when an uncomfortable stiffness rippled up his spine. It was, undoubtedly, a result of sitting in the same position for far too long. His stomach gave a warning rumble, too. He supposed he ought to grab a quick bite of lunch before the local eateries became too crowded.

But he needed to make that important phone call, first.

Just as his fingers hovered over the keypad, a soft knock came at the hands of his yeoman. Swallowing a sigh, AJ wondered how he'd be able to get anything done if he was constantly interrupted. He bit back the fuzz of irritation and granted Tiner entrance with a rather gruff, 'Enter'.

"Sir, sorry to interrupt again, but there's an Admiral James Clemmons here to see you".

Had it not been for his forty years of ingrained military protocol, AJ would've jumped to his feet, nearly upending his chair in the process. "Jimmy!?"

Tiner, concerned he'd made a mistake, widened his eyes. "Sir, I told him you were busy, but he said you wouldn't mind". He gestured behind him. "I can request him to make an appointment for a later date, sir".

AJ shook his head. "No need. Send him in, Tiner. Thank you".

He stepped aside, and James, 'Jimmy' Clemmons, entered the office. A stocky, healthy-looking man in his late fifties with iron-gray hair and creases framing his hazel eyes, James held an affinity for going against the grain and ruffling the feathers of those around him. A former SEAL himself, he was also one of the few people AJ trusted implicitly. AJ vacated his seat behind his desk to greet James with a firm handshake and a brotherly pat on the back. "What are you doing here, Jimmy?" he exclaimed. "Long time no see!"

He heartily returned AJ's handshake. "Heard this old dog was still sleeping on the job, so I had to come by and see for myself". He clearly relished their decades-old camaraderie. "I'm on leave for the next week. I was in the area visiting the wife's folks".

AJ grinned. "I can't believe they let you roam the streets unsupervised". He motioned for his former comrade to take a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs while he poured them each a cup of coffee from the small beverage table adjacent to the bay window.

"I can't either, but considering I'm burning up what leave I can before I hang my hat up," he shrugged, "I think they've resigned themselves to the fact I may leave a path of destruction".

"You're retiring? No kidding!" AJ replied, rather stunned. He handed James a steaming cup of the caffeinated beverage before settling in the other chair.

He took a sip of his coffee, the rim of the cup doing little to hide his enthusiastic grin. "Sure as shit! I have less than a week until I can enjoy the blissful world that is retirement".

"Well, I'll just be damned. I thought I'd never hear you say you were ready for the glue factory. I figured they would have to haul you in a casket!"

A jovial laugh escaped him, and he motioned towards the stack of folders on AJ's desk. "Speaking of retirement, when are you going to head to the pasture?"

AJ clicked his tongue. "Eh, I've got it good here. Best damn team I've ever had. It's great. Except for the paperwork and bureaucratic bullshit. But," he gave the stack of folders a withering glance, "I suppose that comes with the territory".

"Looks like you've had your nose to the grindstone". James raised an eyebrow. "Knee deep, huh?"

"No, trying to figure out how to pull a rabbit out of a hat," AJ said wearily, "especially when I don't have a rabbit and I don't have a hat".

His confession took James by surprise. He knew AJ was a stickler for playing by the rules. But he could tell by the bulldog set of AJ's mouth he was heavily invested in his mission.

"My Chief of Staff is on family medical leave. Her uncle, a former Marine Colonel, has terminal cancer". He pointed towards the file laying open on his desk. " I'm overseeing the arrangements and giving the eulogy".

James scratched his head, not entirely sure he understood his friend's dilemma. "AJ, last I checked, you made a living from speaking to a crowd. I can't fathom a eulogy being that difficult".

His eyes clouded over. "It's not the eulogy".

"Then what is it?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to give this man an honorable ceremony," AJ put it bluntly. At James' puzzled expression, he elaborated. "He was incarcerated at Leavenworth for stealing the Declaration of Independence a few years back".

James whistled at this piece of information. "Boy, a stunt like that will land you in the pen for a long time".

AJ leaned forward, hands on his thighs. "Yeah. He got ten but they released him into Mac's care due to good behavior and his terminal diagnosis".

His brow furrowed. "Mac?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie," AJ explained, momentarily forgetting James was not familiar with his staff. "She's my Chief of Staff. One of the best damn lawyers I've got. Colonel O'Hara's her uncle. '' He reached over to grab a copy of Matthew's will and testament. "Colonel O'Hara has chosen cremation, but I need," he suddenly changed course, "no, I _want_ to give him some type of military ceremony. I know it can't be anything official due to his record, but the man deserves_ something_". He paused. "I don't agree with his actions, but damn, he gave thirty years of service to this country. I can't help but have respect for a man who truly believed he was doing what was best".

Jimmy nodded while he read over the contents of Matthew's file with considerable thought. "I might be able to help. I've got some fellas who do unofficial burial honors, depending on the scheduling".

"He's got a few battalion buddies who will come, but that's all I've managed to cobble together. We don't have a lot of time, Jimmy," AJ warned, "he's got...days left. If that".

"Damn". He handed the folder back to AJ. "That bad?"

"Yeah".

"That's a real shame," Jimmy offered up, his voice full of sincere regret. "Tell you what, I haven't had lunch yet, and I'm guessing, by the bear growling in my ear," he gestured at AJ's torso, "you haven't either. How about we grab some food and you can give me more details? I'll make some calls on the way, see what I can scrounge up". Pushing his fingers through his military-short hair as he came to his feet, he added, "I'll do what I can to help, but I'll warn you, it may not be much".

AJ gladly accepted the offer without hesitation. "Sounds good". He led the way into the antechamber, pausing to give his out-of-office notice to Tiner. "I'll take whatever you can give me".

At this point, he'd be willing to give up his command to Singer if it meant giving the man a proper, if unofficial, ceremony.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

2100 MT

Friday

Mac's apartment

Georgetown, VA

The ceramic plates clinked softly as Mac returned the stack to their rightful place in the cabinet. She worked quietly, but efficiently. Harm had all but forcefully shooed her from the kitchen with strict instructions not to bother with the dishes; he'd finish them after he'd showered for the evening. But Mac, ever so stubborn, had waited to hear the water running before changing the dishes out in the dishwasher. He'd already gone to the trouble of buying groceries and prepared, as usual, a fabulous dinner. Cleaning up was the least she could do.

A twinge of guilt tugged at her heart.

Although the food tasted quite remarkable, she found herself scooting the food around on her plate in a mindless pattern. Harm had asked her if the meal was ok; his brow furrowed in concern that he'd somehow made it unpalatable. Mac's heart nearly broke at the disappointment hiding within his eyes, and she had rushed to reassure him that it had nothing to do with the taste. Rather, it had everything to do with what was happening to the man lying in the hospital bed just feet away. Her uncle's status had taken a nosedive in the last week. Christmas was only five days away, and as the daylight slipped away each day, so did her uncle. She doubted he would make it to the holiday.

She removed a casserole dish from the bottom rack and set it on the counter, nudging the door of the appliance closed with her hip. Her thoughts wandered to the events that had happened over the past few weeks. She was losing him. She was desperate to hold on as tightly as possible. She knew it was wrong; knew it was selfish for he was literally trapped in his own personal hell. But when she really, _really _thought about the days to come without him in it, the awareness stole her breath. Her heart was on the verge of disintegrating like pillars of sand in the wind. The autumn months had sped by swiftly, each day erasing what little time he had left. The sleepless nights had emerged once more. Her dread of having to live her life without him was impossible to escape, even if for just an hour. When the bony fingers of depression came beckoning, she wanted nothing more than to seek shelter from its unrelenting grip.

It had been very hard for her to let Harm take the lead when it came to caring for Matthew. Most of her life, she'd relied on herself to get things done, and as such, it took extreme effort to give up that control. She'd struggled so long by herself, that the energy she used to bear her burdens alone left her exhausted. But the rational side of her told her she needed help. As much as she loved Matt, there were some things she was thankful Harm was willing to tend to. Her uncle had lost so much he held dear: his family, his career, his freedom, and ultimately, his life, but his dignity was one thing she was determined to help him keep. She was getting more than four hours of sleep without having to wake throughout the night, and it was helping her reclaim a bit of who she was before Matthew's illness.

And she really was glad Harm was there. She couldn't imagine having anyone walk this path with her except…_him. _

The night before, they had fallen asleep on the couch, her tucked against his chest, the movie credits rolling on the screen. A bowl of half-eaten popcorn rested between them, all but forgotten. Among the movies they'd watched was, '_The Velveteen Rabbit'. _A favorite movie from childhood, she always teared up during the conversations between the Old Skin Horse and the Rabbit. She couldn't help but draw parallels, especially where Matthew was concerned. It became eerily unsettling just how the words spoken between the two characters seemed to have played out in her own life:

_"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"_

_"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."_

_"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit._

_"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."_

_"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"_

_"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."_

_"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled._

_"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."_

In the recesses of Sarah's mind, the relationship between the Rabbit and the Old Skin Horse personified her's and Matthew's. Her uncle had made her real, by loving her, for making her stronger than she could have ever believed. She wasn't easily broken, for she'd gained wisdom and strength. And the sharp edges were merely a facade to keep away those who held less-than-noble intentions. Like the fancy toys that had come and gone in the Old Skin Horse's nursery, so had the people who were supposed to love her.

Except Harm.

Harm was unlike any man she'd ever known. He hadn't rushed her, hadn't pressured her. Instead, he'd broken down her resistance, bit by bit, ever so patient, undemanding, and kind. For all of her life, she had kept her inner workings close to her chest, unavailable, even undetectable to everyone around her, but somehow he'd chipped away at her defenses. He knew everything there was to know about her: her toxic childhood, her alcoholism, the abusive marriage to Chris. All the men she'd been with or cared about. She'd told him everything. If she was going to let him into her life, fully and completely, she didn't want anything left in the shadows, only to leap out at some unexpected time.

And so, when he'd offered to move in to help with Matthew's care, she had given him her trust, something she'd sworn long ago she'd never give any one. For the few weeks he'd been there, it felt as though they were going thru the regular motions of the quintessential married couple. They'd cook dinner together. Lament over a difficult case. Share funny stories about their godson. Knowing he was out in the kitchen every morning making them breakfast, sent a keening ache of so many emotions through her that she lay there awash within them. She found herself daydreaming about what life with him would be like. Being married to him. Having a family with him.

A shadow of sadness flitted across her eyes, and Mac forced the thoughts away. Her throat constricted and she bit her lip to keep the tears back. Her attraction to him was far more than just sexual, more than just physical. It percolated beneath the surface, simmering with so much heartfelt desire that it nearly overwhelmed her. She would catch him looking at her, feel the way his heart seemed to speak to her own as if he really _knew_ her.

Until she realized…he didn't live there. He was just staying there.

She didn't know how to feel about the days following Matthew's death. Once he was gone, she'd be left with nothing but emptiness. An empty hospital bed. An empty apartment. No Uncle Matt to greet her when she got up in the morning. No Harm to kiss her goodnight, or tease about the fuzzy kitten slippers she wore.

Nothing.

And she didn't know what hurt the most.

The impending loss of her beloved uncle, or Harm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harm leaned his head against the shower wall, allowing his muscles relax as the hot water skimmed over his body. An air of femininity permeated the room. The lingering hints of lemon and coconut drifted thru his nose, remnants of Mac's earlier shower. It made Harm ache. His mind clicked along at a million miles an hour.

The dreams and visions were coming in aggressive waves. But it was more or less the same one.

They were in the safe confines of their home. They'd been apart for several weeks, a result of back-to-back TDY assignments. Hungry for each other, it was every bit of coming home. He'd tug her closer. She'd mold her soft curves against his hardened planes, her gypsy eyes sparkling with so much love that he found it damn near impossible to not drown in them. One by one, he'd pull the pins out of her regulation bun, until the dark, curled tresses cascaded over his fingers like molten lava. An impish smile of anticipation would tug at the corners of her soft lips. It was a softness he knew so well. He'd scoop her up and carry her to their bedroom where they'd make love until the milky edges of dawn caressed the horizon.

On the rolling edge of that dream came another. In this one, he'd find himself walking into the nursery where Sarah sat reading to their young son and unborn daughter. Her hair would flit gently with her animated gestures as she acted out various scenes from the book, while her voice, low and sweet, would entrance them all. The look of utter contentment was evident on her face when he joined them at the oversized loveseat.

Both were one hell of a dream; ones he'd been having repeatedly, as if it were a pleasantly stuck record meant to drive him insane. He wanted to wake up every morning with Sarah in his arms. A sense of total desperation wound through his chest.

"God," he whispered, "let me make up for all I've done wrong when it comes to her. _Please_. Just give me that chance. Give me a chance to make it right with her. Give _us_ a chance. '' His heart ached. For years, Harm had been a spectator of her life when he'd wanted nothing more than to be a part of it.

And as the water rushed over him, soothing his muscles, it rinsed away the hesitations. The insecurities. The doubts.

It rid him of the suffocating cloak of fear.

He shut off the shower, blindly reaching for the oversized bath towel. He dried off, donned a pair of sweats and a rather worn t-shirt, and make quick work of drying his regulation-short hair.

He wiped off the fogged beveled mirror with the partially damp towel, catching his reflection as he did so. The man looking back at him was older, now. Far older in his soul that what reflected in the flesh. His eyes slid over to the adjoining sink. She'd cleared off enough space for him to put his few toiletries, but she didn't pack everything away, and for some inexplicable reason, it gave him much comfort to see her toiletries neatly lined up on the marble top. It was the little things that made her, well...her. His fingers slid across her hairbrush, strands of her brunette hair wedged between the bristles. His attention turned to the bottle of perfume he loved to smell so much. He fingered the glass bottle, turning the delicate bottle over in his hands. He closed his eyes, inhaling the fragrance that was so uniquely hers.

And made a decision.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her chest suddenly felt a little too tight, clogged by the unwanted, thick emotions she didn't want to feel. She had watched him ever since he'd moved in as they worked together to tend to Matthew's care. The way he took great care to give Matthew as much control over his body and decisions as possible. The way he always asked for permission to perform a certain task. The way he invited Matthew's feedback or suggestions. Harm was more than just his caregiver, he was his friend and confidant.

Her mind ventured back to all the moments they'd shared since she'd brought Matthew home, each memory burned with infinite clarity in her mind. The past few weeks had been like heaven. A reprieve. He'd managed to turn her world on its axis, shaking it up from the inside out. She felt out of control and yet they were so solid and smooth in one another's presence, as if they had been living together for years. She felt they were on the same page, wanted the same thing, and she was on the edge of uttering those three words that carried so much weight. The feelings this man stirred within her were ones she could no longer deny, no matter how hard she worked to stuff them down. The entire time he'd been out in California, she'd found herself dreaming about him. Wanting him. Aching for him. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his kisses, feel the wondrous feeling of being alive in his arms as they danced together at Matthew's party, and the fiery burn that came from wanting him.

But the warmth from those thoughts drifted away, replaced with the cold voices of self-doubt that spoke only to remind her he'd merely moved in to help because he'd felt obligated to do so. And when her uncle passed, he'd return home, and she'd be forced to return to reality.

Hearing the hair dryer turn off, she realized he was almost done, and she still had the cutlery and casserole dish left to put away. Sighing heavily, she made quick work of sorting the flatware, then set to return the casserole dish in the topmost part of the cabinet. Mac lifted the dish from the rack, then nudged the dishwasher door closed with her hip. She strained on tiptoe to reach the highest shelf, her hand not quite meeting the ledge. She cursed her short arms, and…..

She sensed his presence the moment he crossed the kitchen threshold.

"Maaaaac….".

She sucked in a quick breath and bit back a grin. She'd been caught red-handed!

His heart rate, already high with anxiety over his decision, kicked up a notch. As she shifted in the low cast lighting of the kitchen, he couldn't help but notice the pair of shorts and oversized peach shirt that fell to her thighs.

He was immediately behind her to offer assistance, his long frame suddenly pressed against her back. She froze at the solid feel of him; his warmth, his scent, everything about him, cocooned her in a welcoming haze of warmth and contentment.

"I thought I told you not to worry with the dishes," he murmured, his voice gritty and intimate. He removed the dish from her grasp, deftly returning it to the top shelf, then captured her hand within his. "You don't take orders very well, do you?"

She became wildly aware of how close he was. One hand now rested against the dip of her waist, the other still grasping hers where she had relinquished her grip on the glass dish. His voice was low against her ear, and she couldn't help the shiver than ran down her spine. It sent a pleasant warmth pooling in her belly. "You can't order me, remember?". She turned in his arms to face him, and whatever further quip she had formulated slipped into the jumbled recesses of her mind. Her thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds into the wind.

"Harm?"

Her voice was a mere whisper, humming between them as rich and velvety as the cup of hot cocoa they'd indulged in earlier in the evening. Her smile was soft, and luminous, and his desire for her twisted in his gut. The fading scent of her lemon meringue lotion wafted over him, and it was more than he could take. Hell, it was more than any rational man with an iron grip on his emotions could take. He reached up to caress her face, trailing his finger across her eyebrow, down her cheek, across her lips, his thumb pausing to sensually caress the intoxicatingly soft skin.

"I only got one kiss under the mistletoe. Yet, I wanted more, Sarah…." He trailed off, her name spilling forth in a hungry whisper from his starving lips. He leaned down, brushing her mouth, feeling the softness of her lips beneath his. Her eyes fluttered closed when he captured her lips with his own, his hunger for her evident in the way he pursued her as she briefly broke the kiss to take a breath. Her lower back came to rest against the counter as he leaned into her, tunneling his fingers in her hair and bringing his other up to brace himself behind her.

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of her given name vibrating from within his chest, fluttering wildly at the maelstrom of emotions he invoked within her, emotions she'd thought she'd had a good grip on since their date before his California trip, since their kiss beneath the mistletoe earlier in the month. She wondered if he ached as much for her as she did for him. Wondered if he laid awake at night like she did.

She felt his tongue run against the seam of her lips and she eagerly granted him access, unable to suppress a quiet moan. The moment her tongue boldly moved against his, her breath caught when, even through the layers of fabric that separated them, she could feel how much he wanted her. Desired her.

God, but the man could kiss. Just like everything else he did so well in his life, kissing her was no different. He was firm, focused, determined.

She placed her hands at his shoulders, steadying herself against the solid feel of him. Her breasts pressed intimately against his chest, and she felt so damn good to him.

She wanted more, but was so hesitant to ask for it. A low, low groan bubbled up in his throat when she dared to ask to deepen the kiss, and he snuggled her tightly against him.

Long, long moments later, he broke the kiss, framing her face between his hands as he touched his forehead to hers.

The next words brought her down from her high.

"I can't do this anymore, Sarah". He whispered, his breath ragged as he fought to regain his bearings.

Her heart tripped, then fell, as his words registered.

She squeezed her eyes shut as a string of hot tears leapt into them.

She had been misreading the signals all this time.

_How could I have been so wrong? _

She bit her lip in a war to regain control of her emotions. Emotions that were razor sharp, clawing her inwardly apart. Plastering on the best smile she could muster, she patted his arm in what she hoped was friendly, ambivalent affection. "It's okay. We uh, just got caught up in the moment. It's the holidays after all, so uh…no worries. Just a friendly kiss between two friends. No big deal. '' She was rambling, but she didn't care. Anything to escape the walls of humiliation that were quickly closing in on her, and fast. She made to squeeze under his arm, eager to put some distance between them and regain some semblance of control.

He blocked her move, pinning her frame against the counter once more, and the simple feel of his arms brushing hers brought her to the edge of tears.

She cleared her throat, hardly trusting herself to speak. "Harm, really, it's okay. I understand. Now, um, I've got to get to be-"

He interrupted her rambling by lifting her chin with his index finger. "I don't think you do, Sarah".

What was it with him using her given name? It was obvious he didn't feel the same way, and his rejection felt like a searing knife in her heart. The words formed on her tongue to ask him to please address her by Mac, but they died the moment she saw the look in his eyes. There was something fierce, something wild, something…intense in his eyes.

"I don't think you understand how many nights I lay awake, unable to sleep because I want you so badly". His eyes never left hers as he stepped ever closer. "I don't think you understand how much my heart aches when I see a man with his wife and children because he has something I'm afraid I'll never have. I don't think you understand how many times I've looked at that picture of us at AJ's christening, wishing that was our baby you were holding, or how many times I've dreamed of how beautiful you would be with my baby growing inside you. I don't think you understand how much I wish my wedding ring was on your hand, or how much I wish your nameplate had Rabb at the end". He took a deep, calming breath, and his voice dropped lower as he came intimately closer to her. Heat flared in Mac's belly when she felt the evidence of how much he wanted her, pressed firmly against her middle. The sudden awareness sent a pang of desire straight to her core, leaving her trembling. "I don't think you understand...how many times I've dreamed about our first time together. I know my dreams of what it would be like pale in reality. They have to, Sarah," he cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her lips. "They have to".

A soft sound caught in her throat as his mouth grazed hers, inviting her to participate. Her eyes went wide as pangs of heat shot thru every nerve in her body, setting them ablaze. Her heart skipped in her chest at his confessions and the implications they carried. Hope sprang eternal in her heart, but the clouds of doubt rolled in, blocking out the sun. She had to be sure. She just had to.

Pulling away from his mouth, Mac dug deep for the courage to voice the question weighing heavily in her heart. It was imperative that she know. "Harm," she whispered unsteadily, "is this what you want? Really and truly?" Dread thumped heavily in her chest as she awaited his response, afraid of what it would be.

"Sarah," he whispered, feeling her doubt wedge its way between them, "I've never been more confident of what I want. I can't do this anymore. I can't walk away, pretending that I'm okay being apart from you".

Harm was like no other man she'd ever met. Selfless, noble, and inhumanly good looking, but that wasn't what was so special about him.

Harmon Rabb Jr wanted her. Sarah Grace Mackenzie. With all her baggage. With all her demons. With all her scars and wounds.

He wanted _her. _Without a shadow of a doubt. Without misconstrued messages.

And at that, he slid his mouth against hers, feeling her lips part, drinking her in. She dissolved into his arms, and she felt his body respond to her, his arousal lengthening against the material between them. She drowned in the heat and tenderness of his kiss. His arms tightened around her, and he felt her hands slide up to his shoulders, blazing a fiery path. She could scarcely believe this was real, such that her chest heaved with the enormity of it all. Her mouth was so incredibly soft as he parted his, sliding his tongue against hers, a silent conversation of trust and desire.

But now was not the time for them to consummate their love. Both were old, and wise enough, to put a steel band around their feelings. There would be time soon enough, after the storms of what was to come had passed, and the turbulent waters would settle once more.

He finally eased his mouth from hers. Barely opening his eyes, he watched hers slowly open. Even in the dimly lit room, he could see the clarity. It was there, her love for him, in her eyes. He nipped her nose playfully, then crushed her to his chest. "God Sarah, I've missed this. Missed you. '' He tucked his cheek against the crown of her head. "All I could think of while I was in California is how much I wanted you with me. I would have given anything to have you there". He pulled back to kiss her again, leaving his lips to linger against hers for a moment before letting go. Brushing her hair behind her ears with one hand, she didn't say anything. He knew he was asking her to take the biggest risk of all, one that had nothing to do with their careers or messed up childhoods. One that had to do with the two of them. And the tremendous love that tied them together.

Her deep, dark eyes turned upon his. To anyone else, they would have missed the carefully concealed self-doubt. But Harm _knew_ her, and he saw the insecurities as plainly as the moon hanging high in the dark canvas of night. "Why?"

"Because, Sarah," he brushed her eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, willing his heart to settle enough to get the words out of his chest, "I love you. So damn much".

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft sound caught in her throat as she stared in disbelief. Her lips parted. "Harm…." she whispered unsteadily, her lips parting in soft surprise.

"Sarah, I'm going to love you until our hair falls out, and we grow old and shabby, and our joints get loose and don't move like they used to," he said, quoting vestiges of her beloved classic nursery book. "But it's not going to matter, because once you are loved, you can't become unloved. What we have is beautiful, and real, and true".

And it was true. What they had together, what they could _be _together, was _real_.

Just like the Old Rocking Horse said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Three days later

0430 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

The early morning light crept across the blinds in the quiet apartment, but it brought no warmth with it. Her heart ached. For the past three months, Mac had been numb. Numb to the realization of what the end would bring. Basically, functioning on autopilot. Now she was filled with all kinds of unwanted emotions, as though her traitorous feelings were emerging from dormancy and roaring to life once more. Her eyes burned with fatigue and grief, but try as she might to lay down and rest, she couldn't. They'd been up all night with Matthew. Hospice had been called, and Mac's suspicion was confirmed.

Her uncle was actively dying.

In the last hour, Matthew had lapsed into unconsciousness, courtesy of the increase in morphine administered by the nurse. She adjusted his I.V., then squeezed the younger Colonel's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"He's not in any pain, I promise you. It's as though he's drifting off to sleep".

Mac only nodded, blinking back the tears that just wouldn't stop. She rubbed her thumb against his knuckles, wishing she could infuse him with the same strength he'd given her beneath the glittering, star-filled sky of Red Rock Mesa. She would never forget how many times, during that trip, he'd told her she was strong. Courageous. Brave.

If only she felt that way now.

She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, then dabbed at Matthew's waxen face. Each shallow heave of his chest ripped out the very fiber of her heart. In a way, she welcomed his passing, for it brought with it an end to his suffering. But, in another, she knew a part of her would die along with him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to lose herself to the void that was nothingness. The worst of the storm was upon her now. Hanging on to the tattered threads of her own self-control, Mac fought the urge to throw something, to scream at the cheery sun that had the audacity to peek over the horizon. She wanted to unleash every bit of the volatile fire that raged within. But she knew she would feel no satisfaction, no sense of victory. Only a crushing emptiness in its wake.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a round of breathlessness overtook her uncle, forcing her to snap back in Marine mode. She gathered him in her arms and rubbed his back gently, comforting him in the only way she could.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0800 MT

JAG HQ

Admiral Chegwidden's Office

Falls Church, VA

"I think the report looks just fine, Lieutenant Sims. You can file this today with Admiral Morris. '' He sat aside his glasses as he handed the report off to his junior officer. "Just make sure you-"

Without requesting entrance, Tiner entered AJ's office, interrupting them.

AJ regarded him with a raised eyebrow. In the four years Tiner had been his yeoman, he'd never known him to enter without permission.

He did not hesitate as he approached his desk. "Sir, Commander Rabb is on line two. It's urgent".

And with absence of explanation, AJ knew. "Thank you Tiner. I'll take it. '' He motioned for Harriet to stay put and punched the intercom. "Harm?"

Tiner, knowing the purpose of the call, retrieved AJ's coat and cover from the rack.

The response from his senior officer came without its standard military decorum. "AJ, you need to come. He began rapidly declining around 0400. We've been up all night with him."

The telltale sounds of muffled crying could be heard in the background and AJ knew, undoubtedly, that Mac, ever his stoic Marine, was doing her best to keep it together. The tears were evident in her voice when Harm transferred the phone to her. "Sir, please let the others know if wish to see him, they need…to come on. He's...he's…". She choked on the last words, unable to finish. Harm took the phone from her.

"Hospice says it won't be long, AJ. Maybe an hour or two, if that".

AJ shook his head at Mac's offer as he quickly pulled on his coat, shoving his cover beneath his armpit. His Marine, always one to think about everyone else but herself, no matter how hard it was on _her_. "Harm, I think she has enough to deal with without a crowd full of people showing up at your front door. I'll brief them on his status, but I'll be arriving solo. Be there in twenty. '' He returned the receiver to its base and exited the office to address the bullpen. "Colonel O'Hara is passing. Whatever your beliefs may be, I ask that you keep the Colonel and his family in your thoughts this morning. Thank you".

His mouth set in a thin line, he strode out of the bullpen. God, his protectiveness was at an all-time high when it came to Mac. It was the entrenched SEAL, a part of him that would forever be there. As the saying goes, 'Once a SEAL, always a SEAL'. He'd tear apart anyone or anything who meant _his_ _daughter_ any harm. But the realization that he couldn't fight these enemies made him seethe with resentment.

Because the enemies were cancer. Death.

He cursed them both.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

0900 MT

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown, VA

When AJ arrived, he found the door unlocked, and he quietly stepped into the apartment. What he saw broke his heart, yet warmed it all the same.

Harm was kneeled beside Mac, rubbing her back in slow soothing motions with one hand, while the other enveloped her hand where she held Matthew's fragile one. AJ's movements caught Harm's eyes, and he looked up to see his Commanding Officer removing his coat and cover.

Harm nodded his thanks and turned his attention back to the grieving woman. He'd been by her side for the last hour or so, yet she barely seemed to notice he was there. Her eyes had become distant once more, a closed window to a part of her he wanted so desperately to reach, to comfort. He could barely stand to see the bleak look in her muddy brown eyes. All he wanted to do was curl up with her, tuck her along his lean body, and hold her tight until she fell asleep.

But now was not the time. Matthew was on the verge of passing, and AJ was there to take over.

He stroked her back once more, then whispered in her ear. "Sarah, AJ's here. He's going to take over, like we talked about. Okay?" He tunneled his fingers through her hair, pushing the strands aside to see her pale face. It was the compressed form of her lips that betrayed the level of emotional pain she was experiencing.

Mac heard the gruff warmth of Harm's voice near her ear. His presence felt steadying. Comforting. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she looked at Harm with big brown eyes, her skin leached of all color. She pulled in her lower lip, worrying it. A sign he'd come to realize was a silent red flag that she was trying to keep it together. "I can't leave, Harm. I- I- can't. I told him I w-would, but I-" her voice trembled, "I can't leave. He has to know. He has to know how m-much…how much I l-love him". Her arms fell from her chest as it heaved with the monumental effort it took to hold back her sobs.

Harm wished he knew the magic words to say that would reassure her everything was going to be okay. He pressed a tender kiss against her temple, weaving his fingers into her silky hair. He was nearly overwhelmed by a fierce desire to protect her heart.

"Sarah, he knows you love him. I promise. He knows. That man knows you love him more than anyone in this world". She remained quiet for a long moment, and Harm began to wonder if she'd even heard him. He grasped her hand, pulling her gently out of the chair she'd been stiffly occupying for the better part of six hours. "We'll do this together. I'm here for you. Always.'' He tugged on her arm, giving her a gentle nudge. "Come on, ninjagirl, let's go for a drive".

She couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. The exhaustion curled up her spine, eager to drag her under. She pressed a firm hand against her mouth to keep the sobs from escaping. She couldn't cry. Nor could she lose it. No. Not like this. Not in front of her Commanding Officer.

Mac rested wearily against Harm's tall form. His arms offered protection, infusing her with the strength to get up and vacate her vigilance by Matthew. The feel of his hand sliding across her lower back, his chin caressing the top of her head, was a much-needed soothing balm.

Mac knelt over Matthew, taking infinite care to press a gentle kiss on each cheek, then his forehead. She caressed his limp, paper-thin hands. "I love you, Uncle Matt. Forever and always. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for—for...for thinking I was worthy enough to save. Thank you for making me _real_". As the last word fell out in a choked sob, she forced herself to step away. Harm's large, gentle hands settled on her sagging shoulders.

For all the fierceness and character AJ had seen in his officer over the years, he saw vestiges of the little girl who'd had no choice but to be fine on her own. He sensed her pride, her toughness, and the nearly thirty-three years of battles she'd fought with herself not to show the parts of her that were inherently _human, _the parts that weren't so brave or tough. And AJ, more than anything, wanted her to know it was okay to not be tough. Or be brave.

He wanted her to know it was okay to_ feel. _

And as she passed by, he took her gently by the shoulders, turning her to face him.

"I-I'm sorry, sir,'' she apologized, her voice raspy with unshed tears. Bowing her head, she glanced away in shame. It would do no good to see the look of disapproval in her superior's eyes.

"No apologies," AJ gently reprimanded her. "No one ever gets through life grieving alone. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to feel, to be human. Do you understand?" He kept a firm, but gentle grip on her shoulders as the tears welled up in her eyes. She refused to look at him. In a rare show of affection, he used her given name to get his point across. "Sarah, it's _okay_ to cry".

Mac saw the genuine concern on his face, the understanding that accompanied someone who knew how it felt to grieve so deeply. "Yes...sir. Un-understood..s-sir". The words fell from her lips in a tremulous stutter, but adhering to military propriety was the only way she could keep herself from breaking down in front of her C.O.

Harm retrieved her coat from the closet, then made sure she was bundled up well. It was bitterly cold out, with temperatures flirting dangerously low. If he couldn't keep her from hurting, he could at least keep her from freezing. He gently grabbed her elbow, leading her to the front door.

AJ gave him a nod of approval before settling in the seat Mac had vacated just moments prior.

As he escorted her towards the door, she gave one final look at Matthew. He pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled her beneath his right arm, tucking her against him.

"Come on," he urged her. "Let's get out of here". He pushed open her apartment door, and the coolness of the hallway fell across her hot cheeks. His arm tightened around her protectively, feeding her comfort, as though he were trying to absorb the impact of the looming storm. The moment the latch clicked into place, her composure melted away, and all he could do was take her in his arms as the waves of grief pummeled her.

On the other side of that same door, the heart of one Navy SEAL, hardened by the casualties of Vietnam, hardened by years of ingrained military propriety, hardened by so much personal loss, shattered at the sound of his officer's heart-wrenching sobs.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it except cry, too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

::END CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE::


End file.
